MarySue Nightmare
by Rachel-Jane Kensington
Summary: What if you woke up one morning and all your dreams had come true. What if you woke up one morning and you weren't even you. Chase Trenton is just a fictional character by just another SueAuthoress. But this time the powers that be have had enough.
1. Naïveté First

AN: I'm glad I'm able to post this story, because I am proud of it, however, I know it's a controversial story. The way I see it, fans of the books could either really like this story or really hate it. And that's fine, that's the point of to tell me where I stand at the moment as a writer. It's not the flames I'm scared of. I've read enough fan fiction to know that when it's necessary, it must be done. What I **_am_** scared of is that you guys will miss the political and driving points of the story entirely. Chase is a Mary-Sue, I'm aware of that. The point is: she's supposed to be. The character that embodies Chase is her Sue author and is finding this out. She's also finding out that life as a Mary-Sue Barbie doll isn't all its cracked up to be; only it's happening in a very extremist situation. Just keep the title and the point of the story in mind as you read. The other point I wanted to touch on is that this story is heavy A/U in a few parts. I feel bad about doing it, but rivalry between the girls is much better presented if they're all in the same dorm, so even though it's only 3rd year HP time, its 7th year for all the Gryffindor Chasers and the houses have reserve teams. I never understood why they wouldn't have bench sitters; I mean every other school sport does. But that's about it. I left Harry and Draco alone, that would've just been too complicated, lol. Thanks.

Mary-Sue Nightmare Chronicles: Volume One: Harry Potter

_What if you woke up one morning and all your dreams had come true? What if you woke up one morning and you weren't even you. _

********

Chapter One: Naïveté First

A sigh left my mouth as I stared at the computer screen. Three years. It had taken me three years to mull over, work and re-write this stupid story. But finally, it was finished. I couldn't hold back the grin any more. I'd finally finished this story, YES! I didn't have to feel guilty anymore and that knowledge was no less than delicious. All of my closest friends were going to love me forever for this. Mary-Beth, I could just see the look on her face. Jessica, we'd have to celebrate with a leprechaun dance. And Cassandra. Cassandra was the main reason for my writing the Oliver Wood fanfic I'd just completed. Three years ago we'd been celebrating a job well done after helping my mom with a dinner party. Cass had been sleeping over and it was then that I'd presented my friend with the ideas I'd been harboring for a few weeks. Ideas for a story about one Chase Trenton. She'd be American, forced to move to England in her last year of Wizarding School because of her father's job relocation. Forced to transfer to Hogwarts. Having been the captain of her quidditch team back home, Chase was due head on for a romance with Oliver Wood. To my surprise Cassandra had actually liked it. This had been back when all I ever wrote were Mary-Sues. Mary-Sues with **_twists_**, but Mary-Sues all the same. Anyway, that had set the whole bit off. But after a while I just couldn't write anymore, lack of inspiration and lack of time.

So this dragged on for quite some time and wouldn't have been a big deal, except for this story never left me the hell alone. It kept bugging me and bugging me forever after. So I re-wrote it, and re-wrote it and edited it and then re-wrote it again. Finally it was done. I'd have to look it over the next morning to see if the ending actually worked out as well as it seemed to right then, but it was late and I was really tired. Yawning, I shut off the computer and still grinning, changed into my pajamas for bed. Sitting down, my gaze drifted across the room to one of my Harry Potter: Year Three posters. The underage wizard met my gaze and I stared at his outstretched hand. Warmth stole into my cheeks as I remembered the day after having pinned that particular poster up. After my morning shower, I'd dressed and had been about to leave the room when his hand had caught my eye.

'_What if…'_ I thought to myself. After all, pictures in the magical world are supposed to move, right?

'_But this isn't the magical world, dimwit. So just go down stairs before some one comes in.' _a voice in the back of my mind screeched. I knew it was ludicrous. Just plain stupid to think that what was in front of me could be anything other than a two dimensional image. But still, so much longing was pent up inside of me. Longing to be in the non existent wizarding world of Harry's.

'_Could you _sound_ any more mellow dramatic! Now just go down stairs. Lower your arm and just go downstairs!' _the voice of reason was persistent. But I didn't, I lifted my arm, slowly, almost scared of being right. My eyes flickered up over his own. Could it happen? Could it really? No…but the least I could do was try. And I did.

I blinked as my fingertips hit paper, and then wall plaster behind that. Almost to my relief nothing happened. Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair as I dashed out. Going on with my life like I hadn't just acted like the most insane, needy idiot on the face of the muggle infested earth. So fast had I brushed that thought away in humiliation. Lying back on the bed, I realized for what must've been the fiftieth time that I really did want to be a part of that world. I wanted Diagon Alley in my life. The Giant Squid, Hagrid, the Shrieking Shack. Even if it meant giving up knowledge of the books, or even my parents or my friends, I wanted it so bad.

I didn't have the heart to tell even myself that it was impossible even if I already knew it. Saying that wouldn't help anything anyways. Might just throw me into depression. I chuckled mentally at the thought.

'_Just go to sleep. Dream of Hogwarts if you must, but just go to sleep.'_

Yeah, well by that I'd actually meant turn out the light, roll over and think about something else. Sleep never came easy for me. Ever. I hated it, even when I was little; going to sleep was like a chore. Now it's more or less a curse. I can never get to sleep until two in the morning at the least. Come morning I can never drag myself out of bed until at least 10am. My parents haven't ever bothered to do anything about it. They figure I'm just a normal fifteen year old and there's nothing to be done.

On top of that I have a light case of chronic paranoia. I'm pretty much convinced that my house is haunted and that some one is going to break into our house and murder us. It doesn't bother me in the daytime much, but at night it's horrid. As a solution, I've grown an addiction to going to sleep while listening to my cd player. Which never really seems to help the actual going to sleep part. But at least it blocks out the noise of the house creaking at night.

Anyways, I finally drifted off around 2:35 am. I didn't dream of anything even related to Harry Potter. I hardly ever did. Actually I dreamt about drowning helplessly. Unfortunately, I held a particular dislike for nightmares. They gave me the sickest feeling in my stomach, like scratching metal, or burning water, or learning about severely tortured childhoods on Oprah. Being something of a perfectionist and a control freak, helplessness was one of my nastiest fears.

Thankfully, I woke up around 6 am like I usually did, in a cold sweat. Those had always seemed peculiar to me, cold sweats. Being cold and sweating, it was rather confusing. Wiping my brow, I tossed over with the intention of falling asleep. But something stopped me and I whipped back around. My eyes widened at the peculiar sight met by them. There was a night stand by my head board, which in itself was strange. But even worse, there was a clock on this night stand and it was **_not _**digital. All my clocks were digital, I liked them that way. Big, bold red letters were hard to mistake in the dark even if you normally wore glasses like I did. My breath quickened a bit and I fidgeted, looking around me in a bit of a panic. I couldn't see much, but there was a window on the other side of my bed and beside that was another bed. It was a four poster with curtains and a canopy and the whole nine yards. Realizing this I just then noticed my own bed was somehow an exact carbon copy of the one I'd been looking at. It was a nice bed, the very kind I'd wanted for years, however it wasn't mine and that made it just as horrid as if it were swimming with snakes. Weak sapphire light was leaking into the room by way of the gothic style windows. Falling back against the crisp white sheets I closed my eyes.

_I must still be dreaming_

The thought repeated itself over and over until it was just a blur against my tired mind and I was again sleeping.

* * *

"Chase…Chase honestly your going to be late for lessons, now hurry up!" some one shook me as I slowly slipped into consciousness. Pushing myself up, I groggily started walking towards the bathroom, barely awake. I hadn't really heard that some one had just called me by something over than my mother's pet name for me "Pooka". All I knew was that I was going to be late for school and that I had to move as quickly as possible. Which, at this hour in the morning, was little more than shuffling. Groping around, I turned on the tap and grabbed my toothbrush before reaching for the paste. I'd shut my eyelids because of all the sunlight suddenly hitting my tired brown eyes. Odd, my parents never opened the windows on their own accord or even when I asked them to do so. As I absently began brushing my teeth, my thoughts drifted back to the strange dream I'd had last night. First thing that came to mind was the drowning. Wrinkling my nose and spitting my toothpaste into the water basin, I searched my mind for more pleasant areas of the dream. Suddenly I realized something very odd was going on in my mouth. Even though I'd spit out my paste and put my brush down to wash my face with the tap water…the toothbrush was still hard at work, and my hands weren't touching it. 

My eyes flew open and widened when the mirror showed the brush moving on its own. A hairbrush was raking through my thick hair on its own as well. Only, it wasn't MY hair. Nor was the toothbrush mine either. Foaming toothpaste scrubbing itself over my teeth, even where the toothbrush wasn't touching it, I let out a high pitched scream and a wail following close behind that. The toothbrush fell. Three girls ran in, all of them recognizable, but none of them supposed to be there.

"Chase what's the matter?"

"What is it?"

"What's up Chase?"

They hit me with question after question when all I could do was stand there and fight off the urge to cry. I couldn't move, couldn't tear my eyes from the mirror. A beautiful girl with barely tanned, perfectly smooth skin and thick, dark gold hair stared at me with hard blue eyes. She was taller than me and was either older or simply taller, as most people were. Strange looking, yet familiar pajamas hung from her slim figure.

This would've been all fine and dandy, if not for two major things that clashed with one another and went hand in hand at the same time. In the pocket of the pink button up night shirt was a shield reading: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

And the other bit (which was quite a few times worse) was that the girl staring at me WAS ME. Gone was my own dark brown mane of tresses, gone were my light brown eyes that found a happy medium between my skin and hair, gone were the dash of freckles I'd always hated that had plagued my cheeks since I was ten.

"Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no…" I began muttering to myself, leaning closer to the mirror image of the fictional character I was currently embodying. Perfect skin, perfect nose, and large, cold blue eyes with a strange trace in them that was unfamiliar to me, perfect as well.

"Is she alright…" one of them muttered.

"Chase…If something's wrong"-

I whipped around, facing them with a terrified look on my face that I'm all too sure frightened them a bit more. The beginnings of so many sentences started in my head but none of them seemed right. These girls obviously thought I was Chase Trenton. After all, I sort of was.

"Umm," I finally managed, which really didn't help things. Thank god I didn't have to pull an English accent. Finally I nodded a little. They exchanged looks before the prettiest one, which I thought might be Alicia Spinnet, spoke up:

"Are you sure your all right Chase?"

There was that bloody name again. I was already growing sick of it. Literally. Swallowing I tried to act like I had it together.

"Umm, yah. I must've had a bad dream." They weren't buying it, I needed information anyways so I decided to change the subject "Guys what day is it?"

"It's the thirteenth of October. We have a test today in transfiguration, so you'd best hurry up." Alicia glanced at me doubtfully before turning and going back to the dorm with the other girls. But I could hear them conversing through the door. They were talking about how crazy I was getting. How crazy Chase was getting actually. Funny, I never wrote about this…well them talking about her behind her back like this.

No wait…I guess I sort of did, but it just seemed so much more vicious when it was actually happening to _me_. Shaking my head I set to work trying to get ready for the day. This was made a bit harder by the fact that I was scared to touch anything for fear of it being possessed by magic as well. Not that I was scared of magic…I just had **_no idea_** what I was doing. Finally I managed to get everything basically in order and I was about to leave but as I went to put my hand to the door, I could hear Chase's so called "friends" still talking about her behind her back.

"Stupid really, of Oliver to even let her on the team."

"Well, she is talented…" I recognized Angelina's voice.

"Doesn't matter," Alicia growled angrily, "She shouldn't be on our team; she shouldn't even be at our school. And besides, the quidditch captain isn't supposed to get _involved_ with his team mates. That was what he told me last year, remember. And look at him now."

"You're just jealous." I heard the amused laugh in Katie's voice. Timidly I opened the door, trying to act like I hadn't heard anything they'd said. I'd wanted to listen more but like they'd said, we were all going to be late if I didn't hurry up. They all eyed me for a moment before avoiding looking at me all together. I couldn't help but think how strange this was. After all, everyone liked Chase…didn't they? My customary paranoia was acting up again and fears that everyone was talking about Chase (and now more importantly me) behind her (er-my) back leaked into my thoughts. Trying to brush them aside and figure out how to do up my robes properly, I soon realized I had no idea how to tie a tie. How stupid was it possible to look in one morning? What was I supposed to do? I could ask one of the girls…but then they'd _know_ I was mental instead of just thinking it. Resolving to solicit Angelina, I hesitantly went over to her.

"Umm, Angelina…?" she was brushing her hair. Turning, she implored my reason for talking to her with her eyes. It was then that I noticed that she had truly creepy eyes…pretty I deduce, but they were these disturbing layers of orange, red, and burgundy. I cleared my throat and showed her my tie, explaining the fact that I needed help doing it up. Just as I'd thought, she gave me a look that suggested she was starting to believe why Alicia was ranting. Slowly picking up her wand, she tapped the bit of satin around my neck and it did itself up in a matter of seconds.

"Oh…" I looked down at the neat fixture, "Right…well, (I cleared my throat again) thanks." Avoiding all her gaze, I went over to my desk and begin gathering my things up.

"What **_are_** you doing?" Alicia rushed over, looking at me almost terrified. My actions slowed and looked up to meet her gaze. She was staring down at me intensely, fists on her hips. Shoulders slumping, a realization hit me.

"Oh, I…this is your bag." I managed to get out, standing up straight.

"It would appear so." Her eyes were still fixed on me and her tone was annoyed.

"Right." I nervously scanned the ground looking for my own bag. Spying something fluffy just under the bed I'd woken from, I leaned down and grabbed at it but at once it was up and had sufficiently scratched my hand. Apparently I'd just seized a cat...Sighing, I did my best to ignore the stares I was getting and went on an avid search for my bag. If this was what the rest of the day was going to be like, why was I even bothering?

I finally did find it and looked around helplessly for a schedule of some kind. The girls had already gone, a bit scared to be around me I think. So there I was, realizing just how big of a job this was going to be. Why…how had this happened? Things weren't supposed to happen like this…just not like this.

'_You were the one who wanted this so very badly, make the most of it'_ the voice in my head was back again. I smiled at the notion that popped into my thoughts: Hearing voices no one else can hear, isn't a good thing, not even in the wizarding world.

Feeling a bit better, I grabbed my transfiguration text and note book, and, deciding I might be able to run up to the tower during lunch (if I could find it again), left for the dining hall. As I wound my way around to the ground floor, excitement started building in me. I could scarcely believe how amazing everything looked up close and how real it was. Was I ever a sucker for beautiful architecture!

With every step I took, the reality of all this was starting to hit me harder and harder. I was soon outside the Great Hall and just standing there, it was hard to make a decision. Finally, I went in. Immediately, overwhelmed was all I could feel. Floating candles, a sunny, bright sky where the ceiling should've been, more gothic styled windows much taller than myself, and hundreds of witches and wizards all in black gowns talking excitedly over warm, buttered rolls and toast. Starting to remember why I wanted all of this so badly, I slowly made my way over to the Gryffindor table. At first I was worried over not being able to find a seat, but out of nowhere a vacancy seemed to appear across from Fred Weasley (at least, I was pretty sure it was Fred…) and Oliver Wood. My eyelids blinked a couple of times out of surprise and inquisitiveness before I got to sitting down.

I slipped off my bag and let my things down, at once going for the porridge, toast and bacon. I hardly ever got breakfast on school days at home, so a meal before class was quite a welcome opportunity.

"Good mornin' Chase, trust you slept well."

A great lurch seemed to take place in the pit of my stomach and the balance my body was trying to maintain was suddenly being threatened. Looking up, my eyes were met with a flurry of brown eyes, light russet hair and the shock I couldn't have avoided if I'd tried flooded my system. Swallowing, I tried desperately to at least return Oliver's smile, but my jaw was clenched so hard that I doubt my expression even _partially_ resembled something friendly.

He was sitting right in front of me. I could scarce believe it, but it was true. Many a time I'd tried to convince myself that he wasn't that big of a deal. But every time I laid eyes on Gryffindor's Quidditch team captain, something very feral inside of me snapped. However, now was not a great time to let a boy get me flustered. Keeping my eyes on my porridge I spoke up, trying to sound as normal as bloody possible.

"Erm, Oliver, I was wondering…when are the umm, practices again?"

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Fred and Alicia looking at me strangely. Looks like I just made a fool of myself yet again this morning. This has **_got_** to be some sort of humiliation **_record_**.

"Every night but Sundays…as always." His soft smile was all that saved me from feeling even more idiotic.

"Oh, okay, right…" this was getting downright wrong. I didn't pride myself on many things, but lying well was one of the few I did. And what was this! This was pathetic. If I couldn't keep my cool I should at least be able to lie properly.

I was soon finished with my meal and as I looked up I caught sight of something. The Ravenclaw table. A sigh left my lips and I frowned, gathering my things. I'd always been a Ravenclaw at heart. I wasn't much of a fan of the Gryffindor house and had always seen that as the one big difference between myself and Chase Trenton. There were others of course, but this seemed to stick out the most to me. So of course being a Gryffindor was all fine and dandy for Chase. But not for me.

I tried to brush it off for now. I had classes to get to and no idea how to find them. Thankfully Oliver was getting up as well. Hopefully I could follow him to Transfiguration and get myself in order there. I had some heavy duty thinking to do.

"Hey Oliver, wait up."


	2. Much Ado

**Chapter Two: Much Ado**_  
_

_'Okay, well, Chase is in her...seventh year...that means she's taking her N.E.W.T.S., damn! I can't take those! I don't even know if I can **do** magic! I might be in Chase's body, but I have my brain, which means I have my soul, which means I'm a muggle at heart, which means I might not be able to do magic!'_

I was at it again, practically giving myself another spaz attack. Glancing around I made sure everyone was listening intently to professor McGonagall's lecture. Sure enough the faces in the room were all staring at her. Picking up my wand to try and test my ability, another thought struck me. The wand in my hand belonged to Chase. It was hand-turned from solid oak with a red cedar handle. At 12 ½ inches, it was magically enhanced with a phoenix feather. It was best for defense against the Dark Arts, healing, and love charms. Not a bad wand by any standards.

However, my own was quite different. Not that I actually owned one. But I did have one picked out for myself. Ebony with a holly handle, it was also 12 ½ inches long and boasted the essence of a griffin feather. According to Alivan's: _It represents strength and generates unsurpassed magical energy. The Holly in the handle is the symbol of life, vitality and immortality and is perfect for use in spoken spells.  
_  
These wands were so different from each other I was almost scared to try hers out. But there of course was only one sure way to know if I could actually do magic. And as we all know, magical ability is a requirement at a school that teaches it. So, rolling up the sleeves of my robes, I thanked the stars I was in the back of the classroom and again picked up the wand.

_'The wand chooses the wizard…'_ I thought to myself, before giving a slight flick of the wrist and forcefully whispering _"Wingardium Leviosa!" _at my quill. To my horror, it actually started to rise, bobbing here and there not two feet in front of me. Terrified of being caught and a bit in shock, I snatched it up from the air without delay.

Sitting back in my chair, I sighed, daring to glance over at Oliver who was across the isle from me, busy taking notes. Obviously he was right handed…

My thoughts drifted back to our chat on the way to class. He'd turned at the door to the Great Hall and smiled as I quickened my pace to catch up with him. We'd soon fallen in step with one another and he'd started up conversation. I wasn't concerned to acknowledge that I'd felt genuinely special at that moment. The quidditch captain was showing **_me_** attention and from what the girls had been gossiping about, he did it often. Often enough to make them jealous at least. The benefits of this were starting to show themselves more and more.

A smirk found its way across my face and I looked over at him again. It was then that my smile ebbed away. I looked down at my open notebook, staring at the blank pages.

Chase was seventeen. So was Oliver. And according to my story they were set to sleep together during Christmas break. I…I couldn't do that. Not yet. Chase may have been 17, but I was 15 and I barely knew Oliver. And while I figured sex couldn't be all that hard to say no to, it was a major thing in the story. Almost **_the_** major thing.

I looked over at Oliver again, a cheerless look now replacing the formerly exuberant one. I had until December to get close to my team captain and decide if I could feel something real for him.

* * *

What was it with these people and essays? I had an essay to write for History of Magic, another for Transfiguration and another for Arithmancy. Unfortunately essays were not a strong point of mine. I may have been a passionate writer, but anything non fictional and you could count me out. Thankfully, supper in the Great Hall came before homework. So after dropping my things off in the tower, I hurried back down to the ground floor and the hall. As you can imagine the path to the Gryffindor tower was becoming very familiar to me by now. However something very exasperating kept slowing me down where ever I went. People I didn't know were calling out my name and saying 'hello'. First of all, of course I didn't even bloody well know any of them and second I didn't have time to say 'hello' back to them all because I barely knew where I was going. Poor Oliver had to accompany me everywhere, but some how I think he was used to it. Truly it never seemed to bother him, and I had the sneaking hunch that it was routine.

Arithmancy wasn't nearly as hard as everyone complained it was. Math had never been a strong point of mine, but this was rather enjoyable and I didn't know how anyone couldn't like a class in which you learned so much. Then again, like I said, I should be in Ravenclaw. At least then I'd just be another nerd instead of, like, the only one.

Sighing I sat down once more at the Gryffindor table, this time **beside** Mr. Wood instead of across from him. He smiled at me as I took my seat and, being in a much better mood than this morning I was able to actually return the gesture. Then it hit me…we had quidditch practice that night. Freak! How was I supposed to do all those essays, _**and** _perform for two hours? There was no way I was missing practice (heh, first time on a broom, this should be interesting). But I couldn't shirk my work the first day I was there! This was something I'd been wanting so desperately for so long, I was determined to be dedicated. I'd just have to find a way to do it all.

Being together at the table with the rest of the house like this at dinner was a really nice feeling. It was just somehow really bonding, as hippy as that sounded.

Looking up I noticed Lee Jordan. I'd always figured him to be a cool enough kid. Friends with the Weasley twins and official commentator at all the school quidditch matches. Little by little I recognized and placed more people sitting at our table. Being a Gryffindor wasn't **so** bad really…not so much pressure as usual…nice, normal people for a change…I was learning to like it very fast.

"So, how was your day?" I asked the boy sitting just beside me. Wood smiled at me as if I were telling a joke.

"You were with me the whole day"- he took a swig of pumpkin juice, then swallowed and said, "You should know."

"Hmm, I suppose I was, wasn't I…" I smiled, "Thanks for that by the way. I've been rather disoriented lately. I think I sniffed up the fumes from a memory potion I was working on for homework and it's starting to get to me."  
_  
'Yes!' I thought to myself, 'I can still pull a good lie, hopefully my nerves were just shot this morning.'_

"Must be, Angelina was telling me earlier in the hall that you asked her how to tie your tie this morning." He eyed me playfully.

"Well, it's complicated. We don't wear uniforms to school at Brinkley Hall." Technically this could be true if I said it was. I'd invented Brinkley Hall (which had been Chase's old school in America) when writing my story. Therefore if I so desired there to be no real dress code there, there didn't need to be.

"So after a month and a half you just up and decide to forget how to do your tie, hmm?"

My eyes widened a bit and I looked at him with a humorously challenging stare, cocking my head to the side to show I was being sardonic.

"Perhaps I need lessons." I suggested.

"That might be a good idea. Ask McGonagall if you can sign up for uniform tutoring." He chuckled.

"Oh you think you're funny do you? It's not like you can really talk, you've got me tutoring **you** in _two_ subjects if I remember correctly." I _hoped_ I was remembering correctly.

He settled down and went back to his soup, trying to think of something to say back. I was relieved at being right. Chase was good at Runes and Charms, Oliver wasn't so. Another way they'd become close. And I had to say it was hard not to get close with this guy, he was very friendly and I was enjoying our flirting sessions more than I thought I might.

"Yeah, see. Just go back to your soup you big bully."

He downed another spoonful before sitting back up and looking at me funny.

"What?" I asked in mid reach for a dinner roll.

"You've been oddly playful all day…" he said distantly. Then it was like he'd shook himself back to reality, "Oh well, guess you're just hyper, eh?"

"I _wish _I was hyper," I grimaced, "I'm really tired. It's been a long day."

"Oh no, don't say that. We still have practice tonight and I will work you in if it kills you."

My shoulders sank and the rest of me seemed to get lower in my seat. Chase was on the reserve team for the moment. There wasn't much reason for her to be on the actual house team really, no open spaces (yet). But she was definitely good enough to at least be on the reserve team and in my opinion that was something in Gryffindor. Quidditch was a strong point of hers. Another thing I was dreading. I'd never been good at sports and the only position I had any experience with what so ever was keeper. I always played goalie or defense line in soccer games. But field and scorer? Don't think so…I was gunna look so pathetic on that broom tonight. Even more so because Chase had been a star player, captain of her team at Brinkley Hall. A funny thing was starting to happen though. I was starting to wonder how Chase did it all: star quidditch player, ideal grades, amazing personality, and a social butterfly. It was everything I'd been fighting not be all my life: perfect. But how could I have written one of my character's like this? It was just not possible, what **_had_** I been smoking?

* * *

Later that afternoon as we all got ready for practice in the locker room; I was desperately trying to figure out how to get my gear on right. Looking around hopelessly, I timidly started over to Oliver. My legs were getting stiffer as I walked nearer to him and saw he was clad in tan breeches as he leaned over, doing up his shin guards. Swallowing nervously I soon got a hold of the fact that I was in front of him. He looked up and smiled. 

"Hello Chase." He now stood up and got out his team sweater from the open locker in front of him. I did my best to give a non-chalant smile.

"Um, Oliver…?" My voice was dormant. I didn't want to do this, I wanted to go back up to my dorm, shut the curtains and think. Think where I was safe and warm and it wasn't so chilly outside, and I didn't have to pretend that I was outgoing. Where no one could see me, back to where no one noticed me, back to where I was just another face in the endless crowd. Was I homesick?

"Chase? You wanted me?" His voice pulled me back to earth. His words however, threatened to send me back into orbit. _You wanted me?_

_'Yeah, right now, in your dorm.'_ I thought to myself, a real smile now plastered across my face. If my friends could only see me now…

"Umm, yah, I need some help doing up my robes."

His brown eyes now looked confused, and he wasn't playing around.

"Look Chase, about that memory thing, maybe you should visit the infirmary…?" he asked, doing up his fore arm guards. I sighed dramatically, staring at him with big eyes and a pleading, helpless look. He was cracking, I could tell.

"All I'm saying," he threw on his scarlet robes. "Is that it might be more serious than you think. I fell off my broom once when I was a younger, insisted it was nothing and stuck out the rest of the game. Later that night it turned out I had broken wrist. We won the game though." He assured me. My eyes couldn't help but roll for a moment.

"Look, I'm fine, would you just help me so we can get out on the pitch?" It was his turn to sigh as he picked up his wand, glanced up at me for a second and then spoke-

_"Devincio!"_ I recognized it as the same spell Alicia had performed this morning. Setting it to memory, I suddenly got an idea. Taking my own wand from the pocket of my khaki slacks, I pointed it at my broom which was resting in the corner by my locker.

_"Accio Broom!"_ With two ginger flicks of my wrist, the broom came soaring over to me. A grin spread over my features and I decided to see how far I could go with this. Raising my wand once more, I opened my mouth to say the spell, but I soon realized I had no idea how to make something close…

"Er, how do I close something again?" I leaned over and asked my team captain. He just looked down at me gravely. I think he felt sorry for me, probably figured I was actually loosing my mind.

"Arcanus."

"Right, _Arcanus Compingo!"_ the locker shut and locked itself, but when I looked back up, Oliver had left. Feeling rather stupid at having just made a fool of myself and realizing I was probably late, my legs began an easy jog out to the pitch. Once down there, we mounted our brooms, which I thankfully didn't have much trouble with; aside from the fact that I was nervous. And then we kicked off. The unexpected way everything hit me so fast scared me a bit at first and I found myself holding onto the worn handle for dear life, barely able to breath. Soon, my eyes were darting downward at the ground which was swiftly getting farther and farther away. Letting out a soft moan of dislike mixed with fear, I leaned forward a bit, zooming off. The reserve team was playing the actual team, so I made my way around, trying to find the quaffle. The light outside was dimming fast because it was 8 o'clock and I realized things would only get harder from here. All I could think was 'thank **_God_** Chase didn't need to wear glasses'.

The broom I was riding was my own, or Chase's I suppose, a Twigger 90. The broom itself flew pretty well, but then I'd never flown with out the aid of an airplane before. It definitely took some getting used too, I'll tell ya. However…it was rather exhilarating. Sort of like driving a go-kart. The wind thrashing over your face, a numbing sensation working its way into your arms and hands, a natural high from the speed,-

A shriek left my mouth as a bludger hit the twigs of my broom, spinning me around in at least a dozen circles. Okay so _that_ didn't normally happen when I raced go-karts with my friends…

The lump in my throat was quickly swallowed down and I slanted forward again, trying desperately to get my bearings and fixate the difference between team mates in the sparse light.

By the end of practice I was not only humiliated; I was walking funny as well. Keeping up with the game had been the most difficult thing by far as everything happened so quickly. I'd thought only professionals worked like that but obviously I'd underestimated my team. In any case I was very glad to be back up in my dorm room when it was all over. Lending to the fact that I had three essays to write I'd figured it was best if I wasn't in the common room with everyone else. Getting distracted after all was a specialty of mine and besides; I had so much to think about. Closing the thick scarlet curtains around my four-poster bed, I laid back and rested my heavy head on the pillows.

Piecing together Chase's life was going to be harder than I'd have ever imagined. After all, a life had so many aspects to it…and to make matters worse, Chase was a witch. How could I have been so stupid…? But it was just a story, I never thought, never really believed I'd be here. And even then, it's not like I wanted to be Chase, right? I wanted to be myself. To be in Ravenclaw House and it's not as if I really wanted to deal with quidditch.

Speaking of quidditch…as much as I'd been blushing on the way back to the castle, I was now starting to see the whole practice in a different sort of perspective. It had certainly been an interesting experience. Flying a broom, while rather unstable, was such a rush. Add the actual playing of the game into that and I was turning into out right adrenaline junkie. My hands still felt numb, much the way they would after go kart racing. Speaking of numb, it had been freezing outside! At least the sky was clear; the crisp autumn weather was making sure of that. I'd never seen so many stars, even on a clear night. With no source of light around for miles I suppose that's the effect one sees in her night sky. And speaking of nice sights to look out for…Harry was incredibly attractive this year. Never in my life had I been too old for a boy, I'd always been too young. With adorations like Stuart Townsend, Orlando Bloom and Hugh Dancy there were times when I'd felt like a blatant teeny-bopper. A grimace crossed my face at the thought and I turned my mind back to Mr. Potter. Mmhmm, very easy on the eyes he was. The smile that found its way onto my mouth couldn't be helped and I gave in. But alas…more irony was coming to bite me in the ass, I was 17. Our team seeker was 13, which had to be like…like cradle robbing. A giggle grew from the smile. **Me**, cradle robbing, what has the world come to?

And then my smile left me, and I suddenly realized how cold these rooms got at night.

The world had come to me being at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I was a witch, I was a fictional character who was rather opposite of myself, even if she was sort of everything I'd always wanted to be, I was flirting rabidly with my own team captain (who seemed to have something to offer that Mr. Potter couldn't) even though that territory seemed to be getting more dangerous by the hour, I was still paranoid, and now I was having impure thoughts about a boy who was four or five years younger than my current self. Albeit he was an incredibly _hot_ boy…but still.

Glancing down at my books, I resolved to get started on my homework and within the hour finished with two of the three essays. The third, which was for Transfiguration, wasn't due for a week and my unwilling mind and tired eyes got the best of me when I shirked it off, deciding to do it tomorrow. Thankfully though, hidden in one of my books, I'd found my class schedule which had thrown me into complete euphoria for a few minutes. The natural high had ended when I realized I had Introduction to Dragon Language as my first class the next day. Christ all mighty, if I was barely holding onto a B in my French class back home, I was doomed now.


	3. Meaning

**Chapter Three: Meaning **

_Seein' through some different eyes/__I can feel a change, I can feel/__Can you feel it/__Everything's feeling unclear/__I wish it were raining/_'_Cause I hate every beautiful day_

_-Sugarcult

* * *

_

I had a hard time getting to sleep that night with out my walkman numbing my senses. Nothing now was there to block out the creaking floorboards, howling winds, real ghosts floating about the tower and a convicted killer on the loose. Of course I knew better than to think of Sirius Black as an actual threat. But still, you had to admit it was rather ironic because everything I'd feared was real now, but I knew I was safe. Being in a place so heavily guarded as Hogwarts it would have been exceedingly hard for me to still be paranoid about getting murdered in my sleep. Being able to let my guard down for once allowed sleep to find me easier than I'd expected, but it didn't stay for long.

Awake I was again at five in the morning. I'd rolled over to try and get back to sleep but it had managed to stay just out of reach. I was out of bed as the early sky was turning its accustomed morning grey. Walking to the bathroom, I opened the curtains allowing the pale light to let me at least see where I was going. It was then that the blonde tresses shadowing my cheeks caught my eyes again. It had alarmed me at first, but my heartbeat soon slowed to a normal pace. Her eyes were still staring me down in the mirror. They weren't my eyes, no matter how hard I stared or how much I saw. I was still looking through Chase's eyes, not my own. My gaze turned downward to my hands. These again were no longer my own either. Pale, weathered from quidditch and broom handling, with well manicured nails. Long, slender fingers with a slight pinkness to them, not a crooked bone to be found.

A frown formed across my face. Even that didn't seem to damper Chase's beauty. But then I noticed something…very small it was but still it got my attention. Chase's eyes were a very strange and almost possessed looking hard blue. They looked so…dead. So unreal.

Thoroughly frightened I left the bathroom, trying to block out the image of her eyes as I hurried to get dressed. Looking out the windows, the sight to greet me was disgusting. Sunshine everywhere and not a cloud in sight. Ugh, I could barely stand it. I'd always liked cloudy days. Even in the summer, overcast afternoons made it feel like fall and I've always felt my safest and most comfortable during the autumn season.

Doing my best to ignore the weather I grabbed my things and decided I didn't need anyone's help to find my classes today. I was determined to go down to the Great Hall and plan my every waking hour out. And so help me God it **_would_** work out the way I wanted it to. If I couldn't control where I live my life I can at least control what happens **_in_** it.

Soft strains of thick dust were floating lazily through the sunshine that was already sputtering through the gigantic windows in the Great Hall. I set my things down and figured since no one was around, I'd go investigate. Only every other window was clear, the others were stained glass images depicting significant events in wizard history.

It would've been somewhat educational and maybe even interesting…had the captions not been in Latin. Turning my head slightly, I looked beyond the glass onto the grounds.

Okay, so the sunshine was still a bit too bright for my taste, but the grounds themselves were spectacularly stunning. Mountains, hills, forests, large bodies of water and a castle to live in. Doesn't get much better.

Well, it would be better if I was **_myself_**, but I didn't have time for more angst. I had a schedule to fix. Sitting down, I quickly got to work. It was Friday, meaning I had Dragon Language classes first thing after breakfast. Hmm…I'd just have to muck my way through that one.

After Introduction to Dragon Language came lunch and then Divination. I'd never really held Professor Trelawney in a high respect, but divination should be about the easiest thing ever to lie my way through. Then again, I was a seventh year now and class might be more advanced than I can fake. Knowing Professor Trelawney however, it wasn't likely.

'_Ah well, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.' _I thought to myself. Satisfied with knowing my schedule, I now pulled out a map I'd found in a drawer and flattened it on the table. Every little square had a number and there were at least three hundred tiny squares. Every hallway had a letter and it seemed after 'z' the map makers had decided to start going on with double letters and then triple and so on. On the back was a massively large key in print as tiny as was on the front telling me the names of all the numbered and lettered areas. I'd soon learned that I could zoom in anywhere and look at certain floor plans and change the viewpoints by simply tapping or dragging my wand over the worn parchment.

As extensive as the map proved to be, it wasn't exactly helpful. There were just far to many places to sift through.

The sun had risen a bit more fully now and I reckoned it had to be at least 7:30. A few other students had lingered in, oddly none of them Gryffindors. Looking up, I realized there was some breakfast on the table already. Grabbing a pitcher of orange juice I poured myself a tall glass and went right back to studying my map as I sipped. However, before I could get far a book was thrown down at the place across from me and a blonde girl sat down, looking rather ruffled. I recognized her at once as a reserve beater for the Gryffindor team that I had met last night. Jemma O'Reilly was her name and I'd got on with her very nicely. Though she'd been in a much better mood last night than she seemed to be in at the moment. Taking her bag from around her neck, Jemma shot a cold glare at the entrance doors. Two boys were doubled over in laughter as they lingered by the doors.

"Good morning Jemma, what's wrong?" I asked, setting my papers aside. She sent a last looming glare towards the boys before throwing her hair over her shoulders and helping herself to some toast. Her attempts at buttering looked a lot less like spreading and a lot more like sporadic bread torture.

"Those…boys." She spat. "Those damn Slytherin quidditch players love to taunt on us reserves. They can't put out enough hatefulness on the team so I suppose they take all their pent up frustration on us reserves. Well I won't stand for it any longer!" she looked up at me for a brief moment before taking a bite of her bread and reaching for the orange juice pitcher. "I'm going straight to Wood after practice tonight." She said after a large gulp of juice.

I nodded firmly in support. But all I could think about was how I was probably going to get heat for being a reserve player as well. It was kind of obvious why they were bothering Gryffindor's reserve team; because they could and because they were bullies. But apparently Jemma was not done.

"I mean honestly, like they don't have a reserve team of their own. Think just because they've won the cup recently and we haven't that they're the better team." At this she gave a short sardonic laugh, "Ha! If that were the truth. We're twice as good as any of them. We just haven't been given ample opportunity to prove it. It's **_not_** like we don't have the talent. There's just no space on the team. Ooh…those bastards make me appreciate the dark arts." She growled before stuffing some bacon into her mouth.

I still couldn't think of a reply so again, I nodded. Just then, my map and schedule caught her eyes. Craning her neck to see across the table, she studied my things before changing the subject.

"What're you doing?"

'_Well!'_ I thought to myself, _'Someone has ADD.'_

"Just trying to figure out where my lessons are. You know save time, don't want to be late trying to find things between classes."

One of her eyebrows rose.

"You still don't know where your classes are?" she asked bewildered.

My mouth opened but nothing came out. She had a point and I realized how stupid I must've sounded just then.

"I got a schedule change." I lied.

"This late in the year?" her tone was still amazed.

"Yes well, I suppose since I just transferred…"

"Oh, right." Jemma seemed thoroughly satisfied and I relaxed. "So, do you need any help?"

"Yeah, okay…" I resolved. I'd intended not to get help from anyone, but seeing as that plan wasn't working out so well…Jemma turned out to be a great help and we had my whole day planned in just a few minutes. However in just those few minutes half the school must've arrived for breakfast. Putting my things away in my bag I figured I should get started eating something as well. Timothy Handle made himself comfortable beside Jemma soon enough and I was left to wait for some one to talk to. Timothy was on the reserve team as well as a keeper. He had about the same build as Oliver only with thick black hair and clear, sky blue eyes. His jaw was a bit squarer as well. No secret was kept easily at Hogwarts and therefore it was common knowledge that Timothy and Jemma had a crush on one another.

Fortunately it didn't take long for most everyone to arrive. Just as Oliver and Percy were about to sit down a loud rumbling and screeching began echoing throughout the Great Hall. A good foot in the air I must've jumped, totally caught off guard. Guess I missed yesterday's mail. Not surprised was I when Percy just rolled his eyes while Oliver chuckled.

"Scared of owls all of a sudden are we?" Wood smirked at me.

"Just startled I guess." I said sheepishly. _'Holy Hell his accent is lethal.'_

I hated sounding like a teenybopper, but it was true. Having Scotland in my blood had always turned me onto those accents, I couldn't help it. Suddenly a note fell in front of me, safely landing just to the right of my plate. Dread swam into my stomach. Lovely, just what I needed; a letter from my fictional character's mother. Upon opening it however, I realized that it really was a good thing. Chase's parents had signed her permission form for Hogsmeade trips. Stuffing the form into my bag, I turned back to Oliver and Percy. I tried to think of something to say but nothing came. Just then I realized a question. One that was sure to prove ridiculous, but one that would strike up conversation never the less.

"So Percy," I did my best to smile warmly in his direction, "Do you play quidditch?"

Oliver struggled not to choke through his laughter at my daring. All Percy did was take a sip of juice from his cup and stare at me for a few very strange moments. It seemed as though he was contemplating my seriousness.

"No, I haven't the time for such things. Very busy with being head boy and the academy and all."

Head boy I knew of, but academy? What was he talking about?

"Academy?" I looked at him puzzled.

"Yes…" finally he caught on that an explanation was in order, "Hogwarts' Ministry of Magic Academy?"

"Oh! Oh, right…sorry. We don't have those at Brinkley of course. Well we have academies, but not that one. Well, actually we might have that one I'm not…sure. Never mind." I turned to Oliver.

"I think I'm going to go, I have some erm, homework to finish and I want to get it all done before class. So, I'll see you at lunch?"

"Today's Friday I thought."

"It **_is _**Friday."

"Then I'll see you **_in_** class Chase, as always."

"Right! In class then. Bye Oliver, bye Percy."

As I was walking off I heard him talking to his red haired friend.

"Strange the way she's been acting lately, eh?"

"She **_has_** been a bit off lately…maybe it's an Americanthing."

* * *

Apparently Dragons have a mostly physical language.

We were studying certain behaviorisms and what they meant. Simple translation was it boiled down to really, making it easier than some English lessons. I'd never been much good at grammar when it was being taught in a classroom. I knew it like the way one knows walking: it was a memorized and automatic skill, but trying to break it down into confusing labels always got me lost.

But back to notes:

_Dragons for the most part are extremely intelligent. Although we may not always be able to understand them, they usually can interpret at least what our tone of voice means._

Pretty cool animals, dragons. I'd never really held a strong liking to them (anything with control over that much fire power is definitely something to be wary of), but they at least seemed a lot more interesting than unicorns and pixies.

Lunch came quicker than I'd have thought it would and I made a quick dash to the tower to change my books so I could go straight to class after I ate. As I sifted through Chase's things I decided I needed to organize my textbooks and everything else on the messy desk I was desperately searching through. Wow, this chick was disorganized when it came to school. Her closet, funnily enough was in perfect order. It was even color coded according to the scheme of the rainbow…It ended up that I was fifteen minutes late for a beautiful lunch of ham and turkey sandwiches.

I wasn't really starving, but I dived in never the less. I figured I should eat a good deal since it was a while until diner and goodness only knows what we'd be having. I'd played that game way too many times on my trip overseas to the United Kingdom during the summer. There were times when we ate foods that didn't always look like they'd have passed inspection. I had no problem just skipping a meal here and there, figuring I'd have a nice delicious dinner to look forward to, only to find that dinner was even worse than lunch and I had nothing to eat but dessert, if I was lucky. Not working a proper meal into my day had always bothered me for some reason. I was beginning to realize that **_a lot_** of things bothered me.

Looking up to pour myself some pumpkin juice I caught the eye of Cedric Diggory for a moment. I felt my grip on the juice pitcher lighten considerably at this and one of the Weasley Twins beside me had to reach out suddenly in order to steady it. I mumbled my thanks, still a tad shocked. Were all the boys at this school gorgeous or was it just my imagination. Looking across the table to Percy I concluded it was imagination. Turning my gaze to Oliver, who was beside me, I constituted some conversation. Although, I have to admit I had a nasty feeling that I was sinking into awkward territory the moment the question formed on my mouth.

"So Oliver, why exactly **are** you so into quidditch? Did your dad play or something?" In that moment I saw a few nervous glances being shot towards my place at the table. And then everyone went back to his or her meals, an uneasy tension still looming in the air. Even Oliver, I noticed, was avoiding my eyes as he reached out for more chips (or crisps as the British slang goes). I also noticed this was unnecessary since he had a small mound of them already on his plate already. Not being able to help my self I laid a hand on his forearm.

"I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. Erm, do you mind staying after practice for a bit tonight? I won't keep you long since I have a lot of homework myself."

"Not at all, I'll stay." I murmured, going back to my plate andcurious as to how I'd managed to make a fool of myself yet again and this time drag Oliver into it **_as well_**.

* * *

Just as I'd suspected, making up predictions in Divination proved to be all too easy and I had a feeling it would be an easy term in Professor Trelawney's class.

Quidditch practice was again shaky. I wasn't **_useless_** at sports, just close enough to make people wonder why I was even on the team. Thankfully Jemma had been sweet enough to shout out directions as Oliver got so frustrated he almost lost his balance a number of times from pulling at his hair so much.

When practice was finally called I could tell he was still livid. Coming in for a hard landing on the soft grassy field, he skidded to a stop with his feet before jumping off of his broom and shouting for everyone to get their arses back to the tower and that he was going to have a word with me. In a blur of maroon they all left rather quickly and I was left alone with my very upset captain. He paced back and forth, trying to actually gain a hold on his ability to speak. Finally he stopped dead and got straight in my face.

"**_What_** is wrong with you?" I thought he might actually want an answer but in a second he was pacing again and continued on. "Just Monday you pulled some of the most incredible moves I'd ever seen! You were amazing! And today it's as if you've lost all hand-eye coordination or something! Honestly, if I didn't know any better I'd think you'd never ridden a broomstick before in your life." Suddenly he was again in front of me, his hands on my shoulders. He wasn't gripping and this not only relieved but surprised me a bit also. Being the muscular jock Oliver was, I suppose I threw in the "didn't-realize-just-how-strong-he-was" stereotype on my own. "You were stunning on that field last week, Chase. You were this almost unbelievable player. You were _perfect_! What **_happened_** to that girl? I **_need_** that girl!"

Through out this entire episode all I could do was stare at him helplessly.

'_That girl is gone,"_ was the only thought that stuck itself in my brain, _'and I doubt she'll ever return to you.'_

Silence was everywhere now. Looking him in the eyes was the last thing I wanted to do, but he was forcing me to with the way he was holding me by the shoulders. Sharp brown coated his black pupils. That's when I saw it again. The horrible deadened, artificial look I'd noticed in Chase's eyes this morning was in his as well. I closed my eyes, blocking it out.

"I can't…" I whispered.

He stood back, letting go of my shoulders and giving me a worried, yet still upset look.

"If something's bothering you, you can talk to me. I'm not just your teammate; I'm your captain and your friend. It's my job either way to see that you're alright." His voice was yielding now and earnestly concerned.

"Just give me a while." My voice was quiet. "I'll be alright."

I knew it was a lie, but lies were all I could give him then. At least it would buy me some time. I turned to go but he stopped me.

"Chase…"

"Yeah?" _'God, please don't yell at me anymore…'_

He seemed to struggle to find the words. Or perhaps he had them; he just couldn't bring himself to say them. I knew that happened to me all the time. I figured I should help him out.

"Do you mind if we sit? After all that flying I feel like my ass if about to fall off." I smiled at him as I took a seat on the flawlessly trimmed grass. To my relief, he smiled back as he took a seat beside me.

"I wanted to answer the question you asked me at lunch."

I felt my stomach drop.

"Now the thing you have to understand is that I don't tell this to many people. The team knows, by way of, well they're my team. What I'm saying is that I can trust you and you need to know that. Please don't give me a reason **_not_** to trust you." I gave him a small nod and he continued. "Alright, my dad _did_ play but I never saw him do it. I have pictures and all, but he died when I was two."

My heart followed suit of my stomach. He wasn't looking at me, thankfully. His eyes were concentrated on the grass in front of him as he struggled through the recesses of his tired mind.

"My mum remarried though, when I was about five. He still lives with us actually. He doesn't play quidditch, can't really fly or stand seeing it either. Truth is, he can't stand me either and he has no trouble making that quite clear when my mum isn't around. Well, anyways, I don't wanna make this much of a pity party. Basically, I just needed to get out of the house as much as possible so I took off early in the morning and made it a point to stay out until my mum came home from work. She worked by the way, he never did. Always a lazy brute if you ask me. So, I flew. It was…my escape, I guess."

"And that's all you did, all day?" I looked at him curiously. He nodded.

"Yah, all day. It's like… when I get out there, onto the pitch, and I feel the wind rush past me and, and I can finally think freely. It's just me and the air and the wind and—and then the game begins and I thrive in the pressure and my nerves they, they kill me sometimes but then I get in the air and I feel nothing but assured and that…I'm where I belong. No one can tell me I'm not doing a good enough job or that I'm letting them down. It isn't about anyone else when I'm up there."

I think I understood what he was saying. That's how I was about my writing. It was all I could think about all day and it's all I ever wanted to concentrate on. In a world of screaming and gossip and the endless pressure you put on yourself, you end up desperate for a way to block it out, for something you can call yours, something to make you forget if only for a little while. It wasn't an art or a sport; it was our way of life.

I explained this to him, leaving out the bit about my correlating only as an author, and he just grinned. I thought maybe I saw a blush creep into his cheeks, but I couldn't tell for the darkness the pitch posed.

"I can't believe you get it," he mumbled, "Even the team says I'm mental."

I was about to say something encouraging, possibly fold my hand in his, just **_do_** **_something_** when a cold, icy feeling crept into my skin. It wasn't just physical, every part of me felt cold, like my very soul was letting me go. At that point I felt Oliver grip my hand. At least, it must have been Oliver since he was the only one beside me. I can't really remember, it was like coming out of a dream state and just barely being awake. Like the way you feel when you have a fever and you're completely out of it and you're freezing. He pulled me up and struggled to get me across the field, out of the stadium and into the locker room. Once I was inside reality seemed to hit me hard.

The warm moisture from the showers, the feeling of the ground beneath my feet, Oliver there with me, and the grip my hands had on either one of his shoulders.

"What in God's name…?" I panted.

"Dementors…" He murmured angrily as he peered over my head and out the open door to make sure they were really gone.

I had forgotten all about the dementors. Honestly, I'd had enough of my own story to remember and I guess I sort of lost track of the third book completely. Absolutely reckless this was getting.

I sat down on a nearby bench, still a bit stunned by the whole thing.

"Don't worry, it didn't get close. I reckon they were just restless because someone was out on the grounds past curfew. And Merlin! No wonder, it's almost ten o'clock. We'd better get. Are you alright?" I deduce he must've finally realized that I was struggling to keep a hold of myself.

Looking up at him I nodded, albeit with a tad of grimace. The cold lingered in my stomach and I could swear I was about to hurl all over his shoes any moment now.

We put our things back in our lockers, splashed our faces with warm water and traversed back up to the castle at a run. By the time we were inside all the hallways were, for the most part, dark and deserted. Looming and shadow casting, the torches hanging on the walls only added to the fear factor. Trying to make our way back to the tower quickly and quietly proved to be very stressful but in the end we did manage. Upon entering, I noticed a light haired girl sobbing as an Indian girl tried to console her. It was all I could do not to laugh as I realized it was Lavender Brown crying over her rabbit. Alicia and her friends all glared at me as I made my way towards the girls' staircase. Why anyone would want to study in a common room when they have their own desks in their own spacious dorms, I have no idea. But I was good and alone either way and better for it. Seeing as everyone else was down stairs, I decided to take a nice long shower. I did love my showers.

I found the whole ordeal of the Hogwarts dorm bathrooms fascinating since they weren't mentioned in the books. Comfortable was probably the best description. The walls and floors were tiled in maroon with the gold lion crest scattered here and there. The towels were maroon and anointed with a stitched in gold lion. The showers were comprised of six cubicle stalls, all about the size of a handicap bathroom with red doors and walls. Naturally, everything took Gryffindor's pattern. Even the soap was red and smelled of cranberries. I hoped only the girls' soap was scented that way. I undid my robes and stepped into the shower. A sigh left my lips as the hot water hit my bare skin.

It felt justly delicious after coming in from the cold. So much swam in my head. The dementors, Oliver, what I was going to do about quidditch. My hands ran over my face out of fatigue and being overworked. Being given the chance to relax seemed to make my muscles realize just how sore they were. It was then I remembered it was Friday. That meant tomorrow was Saturday. Oh thank god and the baby Jesus. I'd be damned if my plans for tomorrow consisted of little more than sleeping and trying to figure this whole damn thing out for sure.


	4. Cold Hard Bitch

**Chapter Four: Cold Hard Bitch**

Immediately following my shower, I threw on an old pair of pajamas and got straight to work. I sat myself down at my desk with a notebook and a quill and started plotting.

'_Today's the sixteenth…wait a minute, Lavender's rabbit died! That makes it exactly three weeks until the quidditch match against Hufflepuff…oh, that's…we loose that one, badly actually.'_ I quickly did the math in my head and scribbled down a few dates on the notebook paper.

Oct. 31-first Hogsmeade trip-Saturday

Search of the castle

Halloween

Nov. 6-quidditch match-Friday

'_Well, at least it's a start…' _I thought to myself. Reaching into my bag, I whipped out my schedule and studied it for a few moments. Monday was Herbology. Musing, I sat back in my chair and my thoughts drifted.

I wanted to murder Oliver's stepfather. There was no use trying to deny it or forget what he'd related to me out on the pitch. Sure he'd beaten around the bush; sure he hadn't full out said the words "he abuses me". But I didn't care; I knew it when I saw it. And I guess it made sense in a few ways. Why I hadn't thought of it before was starting to bug me. I can't stand feeling stupid. What I can't stand even more than that is any kind of threat (be it physical or emotional) against my friends. I may have been a tolerant girl, but I was territorial beyond belief. Get those flames going and the passion that rose was very hard to extinguish. All my friends knew this well.

Sighing, I ran a hand over my face and figured I should get a start on my homework; I could work this out tomorrow morning. But even once I had my books and everything out and ready…more things started to bother me.

Namely Oliver. I was still concerned about trying to establish a real relationship with him.

How had this happened anyway…? What had I done to deserve this? It dawned on me that I wasn't sure whether I meant that negatively or positively. None of this entire situation made sense. Life at Hogwarts was so involved and I was trying to get into the swing of things so badly…I hadn't once questioned all of this. What was going on?

This was some nightmare out of a sci-fi movie. And gosh do I hate sci-fi movies.

Pushing it all to the back of my mind, I set to doing my homework.

* * *

It was dark and quiet when I woke up. A shiver coursed over my skin and goose bumps left a trail down my arms and legs. Everyone's bed curtains were pulled closed except for mine. Glancing down I realized I must've fallen asleep in the middle of outlining the telepathy chapter we'd be looking at next week in divination. My eyes wandered to the table alarm clock gently ticking away. It appeared to be about one in the morning.

Looking all around the room again, I decided to just go curl up by the fire downstairs and let my mind wander. Taking my notebook and quill with me, I set off. My footsteps halted at the door. I stood there, pondering for a moment before back tracking, grabbing a quilted blanket from my bed and going off once more. I could feel my skin, warm and soft from sleep, as my sock laden feet met every cold, stone step.

Coming to the foot of the staircase, my walking approached a dead halt again. Now, it wouldn't have been much of a surprise to see him normally, seeing as I was practically **_living_** a Mary-Sue nightmare. But it wasn't just Oliver down in the common room, oh no. Alicia, of all people, was with him. They both looked up at me, surprised.

Smiling politely, I gingerly began walking their way. The both of them were seated very close together on a couch near the fire. I was trying **_so_** hard not to raise a questioning eyebrow at Alicia, or even glare her way.

'_What's the name of this?' _I thought. Of course that isn't what I said.

"Well, good morning." That's what I said. Sigh I hate it when I sell myself out…Polite though my smile was; I struggled not to get bitter on them. The sweet, pumpkin orange firelight played over Oliver's cheek and eyes. His few freckles dashed across his cheeks, I realized with amusement, looked very sexy under the play of light. Suddenly I wished I had **_my_** few freckles back. My stomach threatened to flip and I realized I couldn't stay mad at him. Alicia on the other hand…

"I was just telling Ollie about some ideas for the team." She smiled at me as if happy I'd joined them. I felt my eyes widen a little at her addressing our team captain as _Ollie_. It was disgusting.

"Oh? I'd love to hear a few." '_Don't be rude, try to stay civil, don't be rude'_

She just looked at me for a moment, amazed that I'd challenge her into such a tight spot. Just as I'd assumed, her "ideas for the team" must've had something to do with a deduction on my part. The part of me that wasn't angrily questioning was glad to see her so uncomfortable.

"Oh, it's nothing, really." She tried to smile at me. Mental note: Alicia does not work well under social pressure.

"Well," I turned to Oliver. If this was how it was going to be, I figured I should start getting more romantically ambitious. "I can't sleep, so I guess I'll just hang out with you guys." I grinned at Alicia, making a bubbly, excited face. Coincidentally, she turned to Oliver.

"I should've gone to bed hours ago. Don't want to be too tired for practice tomorrow. Good night Ollie." And then, just before getting up, she hugged him. She actually **_hugged _**him good night as I was sitting on the couch just across from them. And **_he_** hugged her **_back_**.

My jaw went slack as she smiled at me over his shoulder, stood, gave me a satisfied leer and trotted off towards the staircases. Eyes wide, I just stared after her in shock for a few seconds.

Involuntarily I shivered. Whether this was because of the chill in the night air, or the fact that I was chagrined at my teammate's vice, who knows.

"What was she talking to you about anyway?" I asked him as I got up to go sit beside him on his couch. The fire's warmth was thawing my nerves by now.

"Just quidditch, like she said." he yawned. Shaking his head slightly afterward, his tired eyes looked in mine. "She's right, you know. We should get to bed."

I couldn't help but feel disappointed.

"But I just came down"-

He sighed, "I can't afford to fall asleep in any more of my classes Chase. I need the cup this year and to be eligible to play, I have to be able to pull good marks in every class."

I shouldn't have, but I pouted.

"You know, you really didn't seem that concerned when you were talking to Alicia." I avoided his gaze, studying the wooden coffee table in front of me. Intricate carvings surrounded the border. I slid my sock clad foot off the low table a few times as we sat in silence.

"It's not that I don't want to hang out with you, you know. I've been in the common room all this time. If any one isn't making an effort to be around, it's you."

I rolled my eyes. I couldn't even find it in me to get very upset.

"You're the one who wants to get all of his work in order. If I'd been down here, neither of us would've gotten our homework done and you know it full well."

"So why did you come down in the first place?" he asked. Okay **_now_** I was upset. Hadn't I just told him? Hadn't he been listening? Or was he too busy staring at Alicia.

"I told you already, I woke up and decided to come down stairs. I didn't even know you were down here. And by the way, if Alicia's so great, she should at least have the guts to tell me to my face if she wants me off the team."

"Who ever said Alicia was great!"

"Well you'd obviously rather hang out with her than me." I was causing trouble he didn't need. Stressing him out when it was the least forgivable. I felt guilty, but I also felt frustrated and confused.

"Look, Alicia's just concerned about her team. You haven't exactly been up to par lately, Chase"-

"And what exactly **_is_** up to par? Perfect?"

"When you're on my team, that'd be good."

"Listen to you! She's concerned about her team, is she? That's funny, she seems a bit pre-occupied with you at the moment."

"Chase! How can you say that, I"-

"She likes you Oliver! Get over it! And you want the truth? It bothers me! It really bothers me, and do you have even the slightest clue as to why? Have you even noticed?"

"We both know you like me, and we both know I like you"-

"Oh? Funny way of showing that."

"Look who's talking! You're the one who started this fight in the first place."

"Ya know what, maybe I should just quit the quidditch team, that way you and Alicia can just hang out on your own with no distractions."

"Are you daft! Did you not hear what I **_just_** said to you!"

I sighed, sitting back against the couch. As I folded my arms over my chest, I thought about how immature my remarks had been.

"I'll see you tomorrow at practice." He mumbled as he got up from the couch when I wouldn't say anything. I didn't move. I couldn't. I attempted to send messages to my legs to move but they refused. Resolving to just stay where I was my eyes drifted to the thriving fire.

Sitting there, watching the hearth, I tried to convince myself "I'll see you tomorrow at practice." wasn't his way of saying "You're so difficult, why can't you be the girl I knew?".

* * *

The next morning I some how dragged myself out of bed. The windows were open. It was a nice, cloudy yet bright, breezy day on the grounds. Sighing, not fully awake enough to do much but shuffle towards the bathroom I headed that way.

The cold water I splashed over my face slid me back into full consciousness. The first thing that came to mind was the last I wanted to be thinking about.

Last night in the common room. The fight I'd managed to get into with Oliver. I could still hear Alicia's "_Good night Ollie"_ running around in my thoughts. After brushing my teeth, I turned to leave and began opening the door when it seemingly flung itself open. Jemma stood on the other side, eyes wide and expectant. My own eyes grew larger at the sight of her. Her blonde hair stood in a tussled, halfhearted ponytail and her skin looked a little drier than usual. We just stood there for a second before she caught on that I had no idea what she was waiting for me to do or say.

"So!" her hand gripped my forearm, dragging me from the bathroom in an excited hurry.

"So…what?"

Sitting me on her bed forcefully, she let go of my arm. I massaged it lightly as I searched my thoughts desperately for some kind of clue as to what she wanted from me.

"You and Oliver, duh. You and him were in the common room last night." She broke out into a grin as I tried to swallow the fact that she knew. Not only had last night sucked, but my only known friend had been watching me. Lovely.

"How did you know I was down there with him?" I hate it when my words have a waspish tone when I don't particularly mean for them to.

"I left the common room late, remember I'd wanted to talk to him about the Slytherin team? Anyways, the second I was in bed, I saw you creep down stairs. I think I accidentally woke you up. Sorry about that." Her words just kept spilling out until she was done.

The nod I gave her before running a tired hand over my face wasn't exactly enthusiastic. But Jemma wasn't finished.

"So…?"

"So what?" I snapped, getting up and heading for my dresser drawer. Mentally I cringed.

'_I really shouldn't talk to her like that.'_

Guilt filtered my thoughts as I rummaged through the clothes in Chase's drawer. Everything was neatly folded and perfectly stacked. This was quickly not so as I tossed things around and unfolded random shirts and pants. Persistent and strong-headed girl she was, Jemma followed me.

"So! What happened last night!" she whined way too close to my ear. My eyes stayed on my clothes. I attempted to occupy myself with what was in front of me. Blue sweater or green? Jeans or khakis?

"Nothing." I murmured absently.

"If you don't tell me I'll just ask Alicia. She came up not long after you went down."

The realization that Jemma was on good terms with Alicia caught my attention and I was tempted to turn and say "Then why don't you go bother her about it, if she's so great?". But that would have been highly uncalled for, not to mention a bit off subject. I could barely admit to myself that it was really the fact that no one could see how much of a bitch Alicia was being that was bothering me. I was convinced I could just deal with it. That I'd show her in the end with Oliver. It was then that I realized just how insane this was getting. Grabbing a bright red, long sleeved shirt and a pair of khakis I grabbed my runners and threw myself back into the bathroom.

"I'll talk to you later." I muttered to Jemma on the way there.

* * *

While getting dressed I'd decided I would get to work finding Oliver and apologize for being such an immature bitch the night before. Of course I was sure I could find more eloquent words than this, but mentally I couldn't stop cursing at myself for being so selfish. If love makes you do crazy things, greed and hatred must be the absolute undoing of all our hard work in life. Half tying the laces of my runners as I made my way out the dormitory door, I hurried down the stone steps and quickly glanced about the common room.

Just as I had assumed, Oliver wasn't there. Why should he be? With the way he was running quidditch practices my only hope (for both our sakes) was that he was in the library catching up on his homework. Making my way out of the portrait hole my hurried steps began towards the staircases…but it was then that I realized, I wasn't quite sure how to get to the library. My eyes couldn't help but roll for a second. Satan is definitely in the details.

I pondered for a moment. It had to be on the ground level somewhere, perhaps off a wing in the corridor that led to the front staircase and the great hall. Just as I was making to set off, I heard a chipper "Good Morning" from the wall beside me. Turning to look, I was amused to find the painting to my left smiling at me and waving casually.

"Good morning." I replied, trying to sound like I always chatted with paintings that talked back. "How are you?" I hoped that this wasn't a strange or somehow inappropriate question to ask a painting. Not that it really should be but still…

"Oh I'm quite well, thank you. I've just come back from a morning walk about the castle walls. There's a nice little orchard on floor five I like to stroll through once in while." The person I was talking to was a middle aged wizard wearing robes of a burnt orange color. He seemed very content. Then an idea struck me. Perhaps **_he _**knew how to get to the library.

"That sounds lovely. I wish there were an orchard like that on the grounds. What kind of fruit does it grow?" I'll just butter him up a tad.

"Grapes. Great big green ones at that. I believe it was painted as a scene from a wine field. But I don't really know."

"Oh? Well, knowing the castle so well, I was wondering if you might be able to tell me how to get to the library."

"You don't know?" he seemed a bit put off by this.

"Well, I've only just transferred and"-

"Well it's quite a long way into the school year; you haven't found your way there by now?"

I eyed him a bit. Was I going to get the same reaction from everyone? Why couldn't people just help me? I wasn't asking much, just directions towards the library. Honestly, isn't that allowed?

"I just need to"- I felt someone tap my shoulder and spun around. Timothy was behind me, his usual smile in place.

"Oh, hey Timothy. What's up?" I inquired.

"We'd better hurry yah?"

"What?" How can he just come up to me and say that? Ugh! These people were so-

"The meeting? On floor three? Oh come on then, Alicia must've told you. Wood's called a team meeting."

"Course he has…" I muttered under my breath.

"Hmm?"

I frowned, shaking my head quickly to dismiss the comment.

"Let's just go, we'll talk on the way." I sighed.

"Right."

We set off for the staircases.

"So what's this meeting about?" I asked as we began to climb.

"Umm, practices I think…" he looked as he was far off thinking for a moment before coming back, "Something like that anyway. So, Alicia didn't tell you? She was supposed to tell all the girls."

"Yah? Well I'm hardly shocked. That girl is**_ asking_** for a fight I swear."

"What! Alicia? Spinnet? I doubt it. It probably just slipped her mind."

"Timothy!" What the hell was up with everyone loving Alicia? Was she really that amazing? "How could it have possibly slipped her mind? I'm in the same dorm as her!"

"Didn't you see her telling everyone else?"

"I was sleeping!"

"Well honestly Chase, there you go. She didn't want to wake you." We'd stopped out side the door of what I figured was an empty classroom.

"She coulda left a note." I mumbled, turning the knob and leaning against the heavy wooden entrance. The rest of the team turned to briefly glance in our direction before going back to their conversations.

My eyes immediately settled on Alicia. She was surrounded by the usual pack of girls, not to mention Jemma. That's it; I had to talk to her. If she has a problem with me, she's gunna tell me. I started off in her direction all but rolling up my sleeves and clenching my fists.

"Oi, Chase!"

Damn you Oliver…

I stopped and turned. He'd already walked up to me. Not clenching my jaw and glaring at him was a challenge. But I was learning to be as friendly as possible and thankfully it was sort of working.

"Look, about last night. I'm sorry."

'_Does he even _**know**_ what he's apologizing for. Because I sure as hell don't.'_

"You know what, don't worry about it. You were right, I was being a bitch." So much for eloquence…

"I never said you were being a bitch." He'd lowered his voice. Grr…Frustration beyond words.

'_What is it with men and assuming things! Why can't they just accept an apology or take a compliment or say 'yes'?'_

"That's not what I meant. I meant I know I was being one."

'_That's an awful lot of 'I's.'_

"Well you shouldn't say that. You should have more self respect."

'_Now why does the phrase, "Turn that frown upside down." come to mind?'_

"Oliver some of us have homework to do, can we please just start?" George Weasley's voice sounded from across the room, as if he was actually worried about such things. A chorus of agreement circulated none the less. Leaving my side, our team captain made his way to the front of the room and cleared his throat.

"I know you all have things to do, so we'll try to make this quick."

I heard Fred stifle a laugh and tried to hold back one of my own at his antics. True, Wood was known for being a tad…long winded when it came to quidditch.

"I think we can all agree that practices have been going excellent, how ever we can probably all also agree that they are getting rather time consuming."

Quite a bit more enthusiastic concurrence sounded at this.

"Now, I want none of you to think that this means our quidditch practices are any less important. They are critical to winning the cup this year which praise God we had **_better_**. As you all know this is my last year at Hogwarts and I want that cup. Not just for me, but for the team as well. You lot are the best Gryffindor has seen in a long while and it's a crime that we haven't won the cup before now. This of course means that we should be putting all our energy into our practices and of course giving 200 at games. However, Professor McGonagall's had a word with me and…" It must've pained him to say this, "She feels…practices need to be shortened to three times a week. Now I know this may make you all nervous or distressed. However, she feels that for the sake of our studies we shall have to…back off a bit from practicing so much. Angelina and I will be comprising a new schedule which will be posted by tomorrow in the common room. That's all, if you have any questions feel free to ask." Apparently Oliver hadn't actually expected anyone to ask anything as he'd started turning to leave when Harry raised his hand.

"What exactly did Professor McGonagall say? I mean none of us are doing poorly in class are we?"

No one else had expected some one to say anything either from the way they all had turned to go as well. However, all eyes were back on our captain now.

"Oh, nothing about grades, just some pish posh about injuring ourselves in class when casting spells because of lack of sleep." A few people looked over at Timothy for a second.


	5. Gift Wrapped Guilt Trip

**Chapter Five: Gift Wrapped Guilt Trap**

_Don't know if I should lick my wounds or say woe is me instead  
And there's an aching inside my head  
It's telling me I'm better off alone  
They say that girl ya know she acts too tough  
They say that girl you know she act so rough  
Well who's gunna turn off the light,_

_And I say follow me down till' you see all my dreams  
Not everything in this magical world is quite what it seems

* * *

_

I raised my arm, forcing the bell of my robe sleeve back for the sixth time as I did some left over homework Sunday night. The stupid things were so large they hampered everything and I was constantly having to raise my arm and shake the sleeve down. I'm afraid it made me look terribly odd in class to be sighing and repeatedly struggling with my own robes.

However, humility was becoming something I was learning fast here. I had accidentally called Harry "Daniel" the other night as I asked him to pass the buttered asparagus stalks at dinner. I **_did_** hope it wouldn't happen again.

These were the slip ups that made _me_ cringe and _those around me _stare. Made them whisper. My steady and apt hand had stopped its scribbling and was still now as my thoughts yet again consumed me, blinding me of the work laying just in front of me. These people were wonderful to read about in books…but at the end of the day they simply were not my real friends. Whether they were real now or not.

What were my friends doing right at this very moment?

If the time was the same there as…well, what ever "here" was, then my best friend Mary-Elizabeth would be studying homework before bed with the hope of pulling an 'A' on some quiz she would surely have tomorrow. No doubt that Jessica would be doing something Harry Potter related as she was more obsessed than any one I knew (including myself). And Cassi was probably terrorizing her cat…or visa versa.

And Josh? CJ? Mary? Kevin? Rachel?

I was sick of not seeing them. Running dry on the social attention I was used to being spoon fed. Was I gone from their world? Was their world still spinning? Were they alright? Lament spilled into my heart all at once, at the thought of my family. I hadn't seen my younger brother in days. A pathetic longing to tell him how much I loved him, just as I did when I came home from school everyday, fueled the grief that much more.

What if I never saw them again?

No…I couldn't think like that.

The thoughts were brushed away as I tried to forget them. But what would replace them? More depressing reflection on Oliver? Things were getting worse than when I **_didn't_** know him. If I was ever going to get close to him I really had to start acting sane.

Hard to do that however when I couldn't talk things out with him. It seemed Alicia _would not_ besatisfied until she was completely and 100 sure that her boy-toy wasn't tied down and that I was miserable. She hadn't left his side, or shut up for that matter since the meeting on Saturday morning. And it looked as though Jemma and herself were suddenly the best of friends like nothing before. The girl honestly had to get over herself before I got tempted to knock her into Slytherin.

Speaking of which…I'd had an interesting run in with their quidditch team that afternoon.

I had snapped at Marcus in the library for egging Oliver to start a fight neither of them could afford. A suspension from quidditch was the last thing the Gryffindors needed of their team captain this season. The rebuttal hadn't been that big of a deal, I'd thought. But even if Jemma wasn't exactly an ally anymore, she'd been right when she'd warned me that Slytherin liked picking on Gryffindor reserves.

"Isn't that cute, boys? The reserve thinks she knows what she's talking about. What's your name again?" his disregard was obviously for the sake of the team behind him. Monkey see, monkey do. Or in this case, ugly half-wit brutes.

"Chase Trenton. And whether I know what I'm talking about or not, at least I don't need a pack of trolls behind me to say it."

Marcus' smirk didn't fall to the irritation I'd raised in his eyes.

"Looks like we've got a smart-ass on our hands, eh boys?" he took a few steps closer as if to challenge me to keep going and see what would happen or else back down. I didn't bother stepping up and making a dramatic idiot of myself, but instead gathered my things.

"Better a smart-ass than a dumb-ass." my own smirk was ringing as clear as I'd been sure to annunciate my words. I could tell I'd just made some new enemies. Stupid move, seeing as I could hardly afford any. Still, he only chuckled at my reply.

"You're a quick one Trenton. Shame it's only in the mind. Quidditch is a sport, not a name calling contest."

"Then perhaps you'd better be practicing both if you want to start fights with an opposing team?" Aggravated I walked away from him, not wanting to go any further and end up with a suspension of my own. Be sure though, the event wasn't lived down quite so easily. Not only was I getting mocked every time the Slytherin quidditch team saw me, my own team was also upset over my provoking Marcus.

Needless to say I was getting so frustrated I was seriously contemplating taking up Voodoo. Sadly they don't teach hokey things like Voodoo at Hogwarts.

Peals of laughter echoed up the stone staircase from the common room. Shaking back to reality made me suddenly realize it was about 9:15 and still I was the only one in my dorm. What was that all about? A small, nerdy sort of voice told me to stay put. Curfew was soon and with my luck I would most definitely be caught out of bed. But most of all, I didn't want them to think I cared. That I was desperate to be included. That I was scared for being left out. I didn't want to give them the satisfaction. But I certainly had a good excuse to at least pass through the common room and see what was going on. I needed to return some books to the library and I needed even more to try and find a book on…what ever it was that had happened to me. Because even though I didn't want to think about it, I was floundering under the stress of suddenly not knowing what was going on. Not being able to trust **_anything. _**Not even the world beneath my feet nor the steady time table I'd never dreamed could be broken.

Grabbing two books off my desk, I stood and jogged down the staircase. I stopped short of turning the corner that would let who ever was in the room sprawling from the staircase know my position. I felt like a spy, or a soldier trying to infiltrate a base.

'_Such a drama queen…'_

I half expected to hear Katie or Alicia chortling to a group about my antics on a broomstick. How I held on for dear life instead of actually playing quidditch half the time. How I shouldn't be on the team at all. How Oliver only lets me stay because he thinks I'm pretty. That that's all I was now. Just a pretty face that aggravated people and had no real talent.

'_Such a **paranoid** drama queen…'_

Of course I heard nothing of the sort. Only the Weasley twins half performing, half telling comical stories and the laughter from their adoring and well deserved audience. I contemplated not even going down to the library. I tried to come up with reasons to make the journey. The books I wanted (but wasn't very hopeful) to find and the fact that my entire dorm had to be missing **_for a reason_** came to mind.

Taking a deep breath I walked out into the fire and candle-lit common room.

'_Casual…just be casual…you will walk, you will talk, and you will smile like this is the way it's supposed to be. Like you have no worries. Just like every one else in this castle…other than Harry Potter.' _He was playing wizard's chess with Ronald Weasley at the moment. Cute to watch actually, little stone pieces smashing each other to bits. Silent, yet brutal warfare on a coffee table. Adorable.

My footsteps led me across the room to the portrait hole. I had surveyed every inch I could see, but not a trace of the team or the occupants of my dorm room. _'Onward.'_

Thankfully, upon my irritating conversation with the painting who liked to take walks but not give good directions, I had since found the library on my map and was eager to test the path. Down the staircases, ground floor, turn right, go left at the corner, and there you are. It worked well, excepting the fact that it took me almost fifteen minutes to get to the ground floor because I kept forgetting that the staircases there liked to move. A lot. Mental note: Hitting the banisters and shouting doesn't help your case much.

There weren't many people still about in the library at this hour. But all I had to do was walk in and I'd found not only the residents of my dorm room but the entire quidditch team, minus Harry and possibly a few others. They were assembled rather close together around a single table and seemed to be quite enjoying themselves. Madame Pince was trying very hard to ignore their hushed laughter, but it seemed just the mere presence of a semi-large group in her domain was making her grit her teeth as she looked up every few moments to glare. Walking up to the front desk only distracted her for a few moments as she checked my books back in with the tap of her wand. When I stood my ground she afforded me a stern glance of regard.

"Can I help you?" her gaze didn't seem annoyed, more like deeply afflicted by the presence of more children.

"Erm, yes. I was wondering if there were any books on…uh…alternate universes…maybe?"

At first I got a bit scared she was going to say no, just so I'd leave, such was her look.

"What do you need it for?" the words were slow and highly suspicious. I had to clear my throat to talk. I had never met some one quite as…intimidating.

"Just an extra credit project for Charms class."

It took her a second or two but she gave me a section name and let me go.

'_**Charms class?** What the hell was I thinking?'_ I mused as I scanned the rows of books. I'd had to pass the table at which my supposed team mates were gathered to reach my destination. They grew hush for a moment as I passed before I heard the girls giggle even harder.

'_It's not about you, the whole world doesn't revolve around you, it's not about you…'_ I was desperate to talk myself down. Although I hadn't seen Oliver and wondered were he was. Was he off somewhere with out Alicia? Was I wasting precious moments of possible communication?

My footsteps continued through the shelves and settled between a line up labeled: Magical Bindings of The Universe. Not much was here really, it was only one isle. Never the less I set to work. Scanning book titles was monotonously boring until I neared the end of the book case and got a bit worried I wasn't going to find anything. I turned to the opposite side of the isle.

_Corporeal Coplanar Existences_ was staring me in the face. A thick book I dare say. Unsteadily I pried it from its tight space compressed between _Corner Stone Charms: The Foundations of the Wizarding World_ and _The Cosmic Almanac And Encyclopedia. _

Figuring this was enough light reading for the week I got myself in gear to leave. As I walked towards Miss Guardian of the Tomes herself I was stopped by an arm reaching out and grabbing a hold of my wrist. Oliver. He was indeed with the rest of the group but off to the end of the table with two full stacks of parchment that matched each other in height at around half a foot. One pile was blank, the other full of chaotic drawings of what looked like a cross between hockey plays and enchanted stick figures trying to butcher one another. He looked up at me curiously, his brown eyes clad in a pair of reading glasses. His grasp on my wrist freed.

"Hey."

"Hi." I tried to sound perky before leaning over to inspect his latest creation with the same disposition one would hold when examining a bunch of scribbles illustrated by a four year old. You know the ones, the kind with which you always say "Wow,

that's so cool." And follow up with a "So…what is it?"

"What're you workin' on?"

"Quidditch plays."

'_Of course.' _I thought. "Oh, neat. So, I haven't seen you around much, been busy?" Alicia's stares were ignored with hidden merriment.

"A little, yeah…" he yawned. I'd always been bad about that. The second some one yawns, there I go as well. About three

times over, too.

"Don't do that." I laughed after having my own yawn. "You'll make me go into a fit of them."

"Sorry." His smile was tired. "Yeah, I haven't seen you much either, love."

'_Shit…' _being a sucker for that endearment meant I was**_ not_** successful in hiding my smirk.

"Well I was kind of hoping to talk to you…a-about the team you know." His turn…

"Um,…" he shifted through some papers, "_Here_ it is, Angelina and I are almost done with the quidditch schedule. We're pretty sure there will_ **not**_ be practice tomorrow, so I'm free just after supper."

I liked how he said 'supper'…

"Sure thing. I'll eat fast." I smiled.

"So, what do you have there?" he pointed to my book.

"Oh, just some reading." I shrugged.

He wrinkled his nose while I fought the pre-pubescent urge to giggle.

"You fancy reading?"

"What you don't?"

"Hate the stuff. Art, literature, theatre. Nope, it's the quidditch pitch for me thank you."

"Oh, I see." Great, so now, not only do I suck at what he likes, but he thinks what I like sucks. This is turning up roses more and more. Madame Pince glared our way again.

"I'd best get going. You might should do the same, it's almost curfew. See you tomorrow then."

"G'night love."

* * *

Dinner was all but swallowed whole the following night. Beef stew wasn't really my thing anyway. And God do I hate rhubarb.

I was hindered from running back to the common room by the fact that Mrs. Norris seemed to be morbidly following me. This practically made me start spasming as I was ready to begin sprinting down the hall towards Gryffindor tower. Needless to say, I was glad to reach the portrait of the Fat Lady. I found Oliver still absorbed in his parchment beside a window. The weather was kicking up a healthy breeze which explained the paper weights now holding down three stacks of paper and another for the one he was working on. I pulled a chair over to sit beside him.

"Hey, did you eat?" I asked, always the concerned type.

"Huh? Oh yah, I got some fruit earlier." He only bothered to put down his quill and look up at me when he'd finished talking and the drawing was to his satisfaction.

"So, what did you want to talk about?"

I cleared my throat. My gaze focused out the window onto the sprawling grounds. Dusk was near, my favorite time of day. So quiet, calm and collected. Did I **_really_** want to bring up Alicia again? Perhaps I could sneak into it…sort of beat around the subject a bit before working up to it.

"Oliver…" I frowned first at the window, then at him. "Why did you let me on the reserve team? It _**was** _because of talent, yes?"

"…Yes. What other reason could I have?"

"I dunno…the girls, they just…I thought I heard them in class the other day. Everyday." I looked down at my lap. "Oh well," the words were a sigh "I guess I shouldn't worry too much about what they think, eh?" I turned to look at Oliver with a small smile, knowing he'd back me up for being so mature about the situation.

"Erm, no, actually." he seemed apprehensive to say it, but he was certainly serious.

"What? No see, that's not what you're supposed to say. You're supposed to agree with me and be proud of me for being the bigger person." I was convinced he was just mistaken or there was a lack of communication going on. This wasn't how it happened in books and movies.

"Yes, well, I would agree with you if you were right."

"I don't...I don't think I follow you."

"Chase, if you can't learn to get along with your team how are you supposed to work with them to win games?"

"But I get along okay with the rest of the _reserve _team."

"That's not the point. If you get called in you won't be playing with the rest of the reserve team. I need you to settle your differences with the girls. I need you on good terms with them. We can't afford grudges holding us back from a victory this year."

I stared at him helplessly for a moment.

"That really is all you bloody well think about, isn't it?"

"What, quidditch? Chase I'm the captain, I have a duty and a responsibility to my team! Don't you understand?"

"There is more to life than quidditch! _It's_ **_just a game_**!" I pleaded with him to understand.

"Like that, that's what I'm talking about. You have no incentive to do anything for your team! You don't even care about the cup and you know how much this means to me!" he shouted, probably meaning every damn word.

"What the hell! That's not what I said"-

"Well, it certainly is how you act. Your practices have been horrible and what have you done to improve? Nothing! All you can do is pick fights with other teams."

I couldn't even begin to believe after all the hard work I'd put in, the focus, the worry and paranoia, that he still couldn't get it through his thick head-well fine, I could play that game better than anybody else I knew. If he wanted to start directly attacking feelings that was so not a problem.

"You bastard, I can't believe you." he looked at me with an unbelieving frown, trying to get the full meaning of my harsh words. "Yah, that's right, I just called you a bastard. Did that hit a nerve?" I spat through saline tears. I'd learned to ignore tears a long time ago. But somehow I just couldn't learn when to draw the line when it came to fighting fair. He glared as he shook his head in disgust and left.

* * *

I was up on a battlement that evening watching the light make some last conversation with the rolling hills before tucking in under the horizon. My abrasive and rash footsteps had subconsciously led me up there. The whole time only brought thoughts of how much I hated myself for saying what I had. For not knowing when to stop, not holding back when I knew I would hurt the feelings of the people I cared about the most. About how fucking ironic it was that Mary-sues where known for being spit-fiery young girls, and how perfect they were. But what no one seemed to understand was that the bursting and persistent ability and will to defend yourself well wasn't usually a good thing. Because that power was hardly ever used f**_or_** good. Sure I could tell off Marcus Flint. Sure I wasn't that intimidated by authority figures. But I was also good for firing up at my friends and turning my easily offended feelings into fuel for arguments with anyone-be it enemies, friends, family or even love interests. It was reckless and immature and not exactly graceful or attractive.

Who was I supposed to get mad at now? Who was I supposed to get snarky with and tell off when I had no one to blame but myself? How could I have brought something so personal as Oliver's mess of a family situation into any of this?

The sky was growing dimmer and darker by the second. The sun of today was loosing time. She was running out of things to say to the hills. She was growing too tired and weak to carry on. And so there was no one to bail her out now. She was gone and no known force could pull her back. Paying your dues is a bitch.


	6. When It Rains, It Pours

A/N: I dunno why it's taking me so long to update since I've had these chapters written out for months. Sry about that, if anyone's really reading, lol. I've been so consumed with 'Vanity' lately, which I actually finished today. I just have to go over it again before I post it which may not be 'till Saturday since I'm shopping tomorow. Anyways, hope you guys like this chapter, only one more after this with a surprise ending! Happy Thanksgving!

**Chapter 6: When it Rains, It Pours**

_Looking back at me I see  
That I never really got it right  
I never stopped to think of you  
I'm always wrapped up in  
Things I cannot win_

_What I really meant to say  
Is I'm sorry for the way I am  
I never meant to be so cold_

_I never really wanted you to see  
The screwed up side of me  
It always seems to get to me  
I never really wanted you to go  
-Crossfade

* * *

_

It had never occurred to me before to ask someone for help. Teachers of magic shouldn't be too appalled by the situation…that is assuming that they even believed me. Asking adults for help wasn't necessarily hard for me; it just never occurred to me much, even in my own world. But about half way through Defense Against the Dark Arts that sunny afternoon I started getting ideas…

Professor Lupin had always been one of my favorite characters hands down. Not just from the Harry Potter books, but in general. His disregard for society, reserved sense of nature, intellect, and virtue of humility were all rather endearing. Knowing that he had his own secrets and that I could trust him had me contemplating going to him about my, er…predicament.

However, he already had quite a lot on his plate to start with. I didn't want him to take on the responsibility of helping me in his spare time as well. But I desperately needed someone to at least talk to.

'_He doesn't have to help me…he can just talk me down. Perhaps explain part of what happened.'_ I was talking myself into staying after class. After all, what else was I supposed to do? The rest of Tuesday afternoons were reserved as N.E.W.T. study hall in the library for seventh year Gryffindors. I didn't want to be back in the library, after all the books I'd been through and still no answers I had already thrown the towel in.

As the rest of the class filtered out after the bell, I made my wary up to my professor's desk. My lips remained docile as I waited for him to notice my presence before I said anything. Within seconds he was looking up at me. Situating his quill back within its ink bottle he spoke.

"Yes Miss Trenton, how can I help you?"

"Professor…can we go in your office? I'd like to talk to you privately."

"Of course, but let's make it quick, I have another class in fifteen minutes."

"Okay, it shouldn't take too long." We began climbing the steps to his office. Doing my best to ignore the grindylow sloshing about in a large tank on the far side of the room, I began.

"Professor,…" '_How can I put this?' _"I have a bit of a problem." '_You see, I'm a Mary-Sue, but I'm not supposed to be…'_ "Sir, do you believe in alternate universes?" '_Cause we're in one, see I read about all this in a book series once, none of it is real, not even you! Ha! Isn't that funny…? No I suppose not.' _

"What kind of wizard would I be if I didn't?" His smile told me he was half humoring me. I sighed.

"Okay, well, do you suppose it's possible to…well…say you were an author. And you write this story and you're so excited about it and you think the whole idea makes sense and that it must be right. But you've never actually gone through what your characters are going through. And then you finally experience it and you realize your theories are all wrong. None of it is plausible in real life. Do you see what I'm saying?"

'**I**_don't even see what I'm saying.' _

"I believe I do…" Professor Lupin looked rather thoughtful as he concentrated on the grindylow tank some 8 feet off.

'_Well I'm glad one of us does.' _

"You're simply realizing the knotgrass isn't always greener on the other side of the castle."

"Something like that I guess...Actually I hadn't thought of it like that. That was good." I smiled hopefully. Maybe he did get this after all. "So, do you have any advice?"

'_Hop the next black hole out of here…'_

"Try looking at it from a different perspective."

'_Actually, that's my _**problem**_…'_

I looked at him and bit my tongue, hesitant to voice my thoughts. Sensing I needed him to re-phrase his words, he spoke once more.

"Re-write your book."

* * *

Before I knew what had happened I was waking up to Halloween Saturday and the first Hogsmeade trip of the year. Disparaging walks off grounds, long and unhealthy awkward silences with hungry anger looming in between, and a security lockdown to look forward to that night. It was going be a long day. 

I got dressed that morning and made my way down the sloping campus towards the gates in the midst of my peers. I was either being steadily ignored or steadily kept an eye on. Both bothered me, but what was there to really do about it?

I turned my concentration to the way the steep, grassy earth felt beneath me as I walked on. My eyes closed. I could feel the wind on my face, in my ears, through my hair. The sun's warmth wasn't very penetrating today even if it was incredibly bright out. Reaching even ground brought me back to reality and forced me to open my eyes. I'd arrived at the gates. Tall and black they wove their sturdy path around the school. A deep breath of clear autumn air passed through me. Over my shoulder I allowed myself a thoughtful gaze. The lake was sparkling enticingly. Deceptive image, for it had to be even colder within its waters than the crisp air blowing across it. The sight of the waters gave way to the thought of one word: reflection. I needed it more than a trip to Hogsmeade at the moment. Besides, it's not as if I'd be missed.

Hiking wasn't something I did often; in fact I wasn't outdoorsy by any means. But as far as I can remember every memory I have of physical exertion out in nature has proved to be a very positive experience. This was no different. The hike around to the opposite end of the lake, the low land forest facing Hogwarts and the cliff it was situated upon, relaxed my tense, upset state of mind. A boulder just shy of the lapping shoreline sat in a curtain of sunlight. Its flat top was placidly uneven, slightly more up than down on the left, but it made a fine bench and I resigned to sitting with my legs crossed Indian style, watching the tarn stretched out before me.

I wasn't getting along with anyone any more. Well, with the mild exception of Timothy who was pleasant to everyone, not to mention a little oblivious to everything going on between myself, Alicia and Wood.

Perhaps I should just chill out. Step out of the lime light that is petty hormonal drama. Alicia could have Oliver if she wanted him. What claim did I, or even Chase for that matter, have on him? Why did I even want one?

But then again, that was the reason this whole equation wasn't adding up. Oliver didn't like Alicia like that. **_That's_** what bothered her so badly, that she thought she was better than Chase and out of no where Chase turned out to be a threat. To make shit even better, Chase hadn't been trying to be a bitch, she'd simply walked in on a situation that from far away actually looked sort of funny.

Well, at least I was seeing things from a different perspective, right? My thoughts had yet to successfully expel Professor Lupin's words from my conscience. _"Re-write your book"_, he'd said. While this was extremely good and profound advice, application of such advice was easier said than done.

Well, at least some good was coming out of this. Since my social life had slowed, my studies had picked up nicely. Just because I liked to learn, didn't mean I was always the best student. Family life had been rough before coming to Hogwarts. I guess that was a perk of being here as well. While I loved my family deeply, my parents and younger brother could act legally insane sometimes. Most of the time lately. Surprisingly, it wasn't my sibling who drove me crazy; it was usually my parents, or rather my mom. She was a great lady, just not such a great mom. And my dad and I had gotten on terribly until just recently. High school had made me a lot more mature so me and him got along much better now than we did while I was in middle school and going through things like my cheesy 'rebel/punk phase'.

Anyways…I guess that had been a huge reason for the constant juvenile wish of an easy way out. My easy way out had a name: Hogwarts. Right now, I wasn't liking my easy way out so much.

"_Re-write your story."_

The phrase whispered itself to me once more and I thought _'Maybe that's just what I should do…'

* * *

_

Around sunset I realized I was going to be late for the feast. I wasn't used to having long legs, but I'll tell ya it makes running a lot more efficient. I was running up the steps of the castle within ten minutes, which really wasn't bad for the distance I was covering in sprints. By the time I was skidding through the doors and around the corner to the great hall, I had tracked in a whole trail of dirt and caused the grandiose Victorian carpet in front of the doors to go tragically crooked. Speaking of crooked…

"**_Halt!_**" a hoarse voice bellowed at me as I ran for the Great Hall. Filch. I knew Mrs. Norris had had it in for me the other day. The sudden jolt of shock had caused me to fall flat on my ass on the marble floor just ten feet short of the Great Hall. Sighing I stood, my rear feeling broken.

"I'm sorry sir, but I was just trying to get to the feas"-

"Running in my halls, tracking in dirt over my floors. I just swept up for Merlin's sake! Can't keep anything orderly for five minutes!" he was muttering like a mad man as he hobbled towards me and shaking with fury all the way. "And why were you late in the first place! All students were supposed to be back from Hogsmeade long before now. Where were **_you_**?"

"You don't understand sir; I was down by the lake. I lost track of time is all, I was just"-

"Don't tell **_me _**I don't understand. I understand fully! You think because you're new that you're above everyone else, don't have to follow the rules. As if they don't apply to you. Well, just to show you that they do, I'm giving you detention…" he smiled at me with the kind of misplaced evil that gave you sore eyes… "On Friday night."

"Friday! But I **_have_** to be at practice on Friday. It's quidditch on Saturday!"

"Exactly! Maybe next time you'll be a little more conscious of your actions. Now get in the Hall, you're already late."

Amazed, I turned and rolled my eyes as I made my towards the Gryffindor table. Dumbledore was giving a speech and I felt hard pressed to make myself scarce. Every seat was taken except for the usual empty bit at the end. I situated myself there and tried to act as though this didn't bother me. Dinner was barely acknowledged by my stomach. I wanted to go up to my dorm to finish my homework before the raid commenced just after dinner, but realized that was impossible, for it would mean inevitably running across Sirius Black or at the very least not being able to guarantee my innocence. How many people would believe my being **away **from the feast and **in** Gryffindor tower were both pure coincidence?_I_ wouldn't have. So I widdled away at least an hour playing with my fork and thinking about how much I detested rhubarb. Finally I figured I had a duty to at least tell Oliver I couldn't make it to practice. There was nothing I wanted less. Not only was I disappointing him again, I had to do it in front of the rest of the team.

My mind wasn't aware of where my steps were taking me and it seemed I'd reached him as soon as I started. Their laughter died down and, one by one, each turned to stare.

'_Staring is rude.'_ The juvenile streak in me wanted to say.

"What do you want?" Katie asked, her voice cool as always. Sighing, I refrained from acknowledging her comment and turned to Wood who was sitting right in front of me.

"Oliver, I can't make it to practice on Friday."

"Good." I heard Alicia mutter just loud enough for me to hear.

Oliver frowned at her and then turned back to me. The frown remained.

"I um, I got a detention." God was this embarrassing. I **_never_** got detentions, ever. I was usually the stick in my muddy group of friends. Plain and simple, I avoided trouble. The only time I ever served something even pathetically resembling detention was when I had to stay in from recess in the sixth grade for not tucking in my shirt…What can I say? It made me look stupid.

"Nice one." Katie snorted sarcastically through a smile. Trying to ignore her still, I just continued to talk to Oliver.

"Filch made it for Friday on purpose. There was nothing I could do." I shrugged apathetically. Defenselessly is more like it. I wasn't in the mood for a fight.

Apparently, they **_were._**

"Good for him." Chirped Alicia. This could be no longer ignored.

"Okay," I turned to her, "Last time I checked you were a chaser, not the quidditch **_captain_**."

She gave a hollow laugh, "Don't tell me about being a chaser; you're the sorriest excuse for one any of us have ever seen."

Oliver sighed and turned to her again, "Do you realize that between you and Katie, I haven't even gotten a word in? Honestly, you're going to get **_yourself_** a detention if you don't watch it." That immediately shut her up. Once more Oliver turned to me.

"Tell me it had nothing to do with the Slytherins." His words were much calmer than I had expected. Leadership really _was_ a strong point of his and I wasn't just impressed, I was a little comforted that at least **_some one_** knew what they were doing around here and could keep a level head. Most of the time.

In respect, all I did was shake my head 'no'.

"Good, now if you'll excuse us." With that he simply turned around and acted as if I had already gone.

* * *

"Of all the stupid, monotonous things…" I was muttering madly to myself on the way back to the tower Friday night. "Folding towels in the prefects' bathroom! Honestly! Who needs that many towels! Certainly not Percy." I'd lost track of the number of white fluffy rectangles after about 38. My mind had been adamant to wander. Not so much about anything here at Hogwarts, as back home. It had been more than three weeks now and I was very much homesick. True, three weeks had been the amount of time I'd spent away from everyone in Great Britain over the summer. But this was obviously different. 

That's not to say I hadn't thought about Hogwarts life at all. I'd had a long time to think, after all. Three hours to be exact. Three hours of my least favorite chore. Folding and taking care of laundry with a picture of a mermaid who laughed at every joke Moaning Myrtle made at my expense. Ooh I hate Filch. Oh well, at least it wasn't scrubbing bed pans. Poor Ronald Weasley was taking up that chore tonight in his own detention. Even still…my arms were killing me.

The other night had been incredibly more entertaining than it probably should have been. But after all, the thought of a frustrated, well meaning Sirius Black stirring up so much fuss…I dunno, it was amusing…in a very dry sort of way. Only now, no one would shut up about it and the subject was getting annoying fast.

Then there was the quidditch practice I had been missing. I knew what the announcements were and so it really wasn't that big of a deal. We were playing Hufflepuff instead of Slytherin; I had known that for a while. Everything everyone had said the other night, no matter how short the conversation was, had meant something to me. Sure I was reading too much into things, I'd be the first one to admit it. But that didn't make the internal nudging go away. Besides, we had been training passionately because of the nearing match and I had been getting better at flying. Playing quidditch was still going shaky, but the actual flying was becoming less dreadful and more relaxing. Oliver's words of 'knowing that's where he belonged' were beginning to make some sense. It really was peaceful up there in the air. Well, for the first couple of seconds anyway.

However as the winds howled on outside, I grew somewhat appreciative of being inside, dry and warm. The weather had been more gruesome everyday that week. The last mildly normal day we'd had had been Halloween. The dramatic tension in the school had been nothing short of comical to watch as the week grew on actually. Harry's very movements were being monitored by loyal Gryffindors (I guess that was all of them, actually) afraid, with reason, of a Slytherin attack on the seeker.

As much as I had to complain about, I appreciated a lot more about being at Hogwarts than it might seem. The view I couldn't help but eat up at every chance I got from the castle windows. My classes proved to be a lot more interesting (not to mention half life threatening) than standard muggle classes. With more interest, came more actual learning and** that** meant something to me. After all, I'd never **_needed_** friends. I'd spent the first 8 years of my life devoid of them all together and even the ones I gained there after weren't exactly what one would call true. I hate most of them to date actually. My best friends I didn't acquire until high school, even if I'd known most of them for much longer than that. The thing was, good friends make a person a human.

Spending my days talking mostly to myself and teachers wasn't**_ such_** a bad way to live. It was just…that was actually a step down from life back home, not to mention it was nothing like I'd expected. Chase had everything. Good looks, a position on the house team, good grades, she could do magic, she even lived in a fucking castle in what I'd hypothesized had to be highland Scotland. For God's sake what was wrong with this equation?

It was in the prefects' bathroom that I started to realize: maybe the formula fan girl authors thought worked out perfectly in the wizarding world made even less sense than it might in real life. And then I started to honestly question myself and Chase. Would I really want to be friends with a little Miss Perfect who embarrassed me more times than not? Not that the embarrassment was Chase's fault. That could easily be linked to my muggle ways.

'_Just a few more corners to round and I can go to sleep._' Repetition of this thought was all that kept me plucking away. Really, more drama was the last thing I had been expecting. But more drama is just what I got. A whole heaping spoonful. Albeit indirectly.

Just about to turn the second to last corner, I could hear two voices animatedly in contention.

"What did you just say to me?" I was torn someplace between shock and a sarcastic _"Of course" _when I recognized Wood's voice. My footwork stopped shy of the corner and I listened. Yep, I was still a Ravenclaw at heart, always adamant to gain new information.

"You heard me." …Alicia. He was arguing with **Alicia** Oh yes, this was gunna be good.

"Of course I heard you; I just can't believe you said it."

"Why? You know it's true." She was mocking him and I couldn't help feeling a little defensive. Things between Oliver and myself were anything but peachy, but that didn't mean I'd stopped caring.

"Alicia, look. You're one of my finest players and I am proud to have you on my team. But get that into your head. It's **_my_** team. What Chase does or doesn't do is none of your concern and until you're captain it will remain none of your concern."

"I'm just looking out for my team; she's keeping us away from the cup."

"And I appreciate your concern, but again, it's my team not yours."

"Well then act like a proper captain and do something!"

At this point, I wasn't sure whether I wanted the boot or not. Let's be honest people, I sucked at the game. I didn't want to be there if I was just making a fool of myself. But more than that I didn't want Alicia to win. So I guess it was down to what I wanted and my pride. How about that? Not just cliché, but stupid too.

It was then that I realized a pause had ensued when my thoughts had. Then Oliver spoke up, his voice quiet and steadily amused.

"Why are you so jealous of her?"

"**I'm** not _jealous_. **She's** an _embarrassment_."

"No but before that…when I first let her on the team. You never did want her on."

"Because I knew she was trouble. Have you even figured out what's made her snap all of a sudden?" _'That wasn't fair, she changed the subject…'_

He sighed, unsure of himself and tired.

"She's going through a lot right now is all I can figure."

"Yah? Well figure **_this_**: She's playing the helpless little princess so her knight in scarlet quidditch robes will come and save her. She wants your damn attention."

My eyes couldn't help but roll. To my sheer delight and surprise, I heard Oliver chuckle.

"**_She _**wants attention does she? Look who's talking!" He had a good point. I hadn't even thought of that. "Bottom line is she stays, get over it."

"Yah she stays, so you can flirt with her some more!"

He dove around this argument and started taking steps to throw in the towel.

"I've had this same conversation with Chase. You both need to settle your differences and get over your selves because if you're petty cat fights hold us back from that cup, so help me God I'll hex you both." He was staying pretty calm through out this and I thought that at least had to count for something. Brownie points for maturity?

"And what about you and her? Are you going to get over each other as well? Or does that rule about a captain not getting involved with his team mates not stand any longer?" her voice sounded genuinely hurt now and for the first time it made me feel like we were on equal ground.

I recognized his sigh again. She was stressing him out. We both were. The difference was-and I was just starting to realize this-that things like this humbled me for a bit. Made me stop thinking about myself and realize who I was hurting with my selfish actions. Feelings like that were stronger than teeny bopper, fan girl crushes. These characters weren't just two dimensional descriptions and profiles up for grabs. They were people. It wasn't something to take lightly, molding their lives and emotions into fan fiction.

And then it made me see: I really cared about him. Past the stupid fantasies. Past the good looks. Past the popularity. Past Hogwarts. And I guess it had never really stopped at the pages of the books. I had always cared for these characters. I'd just been too wrapped up in a fantasy to realize that I'd sugarcoated, assumed and romanticized a lot of real life that happened, even here in the wizarding world.

"If you cared about me that much, you'd just want me to be happy."

I heard him stalk off. Or rather, I heard someone stalk off and then a feminine sounding, jaw clenched scream seconds after the portrait to the Gryffindor Common room closed. Then another set of steps stalking off.

* * *

I got practically no sleep that night. Mostly because the pain of lifting and folding towels for three hours had finally caught up with me and finding a position to rest my arms in that would make them stop screaming in pain was impossible. Responsibility was also shared with my hope of rekindling some kind of friendship with Oliver being slightly encouraged. 

I sat in the Great Hall the next morning barely alert of my surroundings. Not the best stature for playing extreme team sports. I was forced to watch as Alicia tried to comfort Oliver repeatedly as he sat anxiously, not making any attempts at breakfast. Probably deciding it was best not to put in what he couldn't hold down. I myself, though possessing a strong stomach, had always been at the mercy of my weak nerves, and had vomited in the bathroom before coming downstairs. So there I sat, carefully sipping at my pumpkin juice while listening to Alicia try to get back on Oliver's good side.

"It's going to be a tough one." His knee was bouncing wildly out of nervousness and his look was tense as he watched the windows and bewitched ceiling.

"Stop worrying, Oliver," said Alicia soothingly, lightly touching his arm, "We don't mind a bit of rain."

'_A bit of rain? It's torrential outside you whore.' _I kept my thoughts to myself as I kept an eye on them both and found myself hard pressed not be sick again.

Although I was still in exile of their group, I had been allowed to sit (while still ignored) beside my team this morning because of the circumstances. Wood had already filled me in on the change of which house we'd be playing and I had taken it in semi-calmly. My usual effort to act naturally shocked and angry was at bay from fatigue and the knowledge that it couldn't possibly really matter what I said to him at the moment.

His usual pep talk never came. It tried to come, but his mouth would open and nothing would come out as we all got silently changed and the gale outside made its presence known. I liked the locker rooms. They were comforting, kind of like a sanctuary. Especially in this weather. The design made a lot of sense and made me wonder how far back Slytherin and Gryffindor's rivalry really went. The actual building containing the locker rooms was pretty hefty as it actually had five rooms within its walls. Each house had a corner for its changing area and they all shared one shower room which was situated in the middle and split down the center so as not to mix genders. Gryffindor and Slytherin were in opposite corners, as far away from one another as possible.

Taking a deep breath, I took up my broom and followed my team out into the howling storm. The wind was so strong we were walking sideways onto the pitch. It had sort of scared me a little, but I made do, calming my frenzied nerves with the sane reminder that I was only a reserve. I wouldn't see play at all.

This didn't make sitting out in the open on wooden benches any less uneasy for me. I sat; tense, awaiting thunder and lightning all over the place but it didn't come. I guess I'd forgotten how scarce that was in the U.K. compared to the lightning capital of the world, Florida, my home. Rain was no stranger there, nor were howling winds. Sitting outside in it with no shelter…yah that was **_definitely_** a new experience for me.

I couldn't see much of what was happening in the air, but from what I did get glimpses of and from the snippets of commentary I caught on the wind I wasn't sure whether to be impressed or enviously resentful. In about fifteen minutes, we were 50 points up and Alicia had scored four out of five goals. As much as I resented her, I couldn't deny that I was wowed by her skills. She had every right to be bragging. But that didn't mean I had to like it.

The first flash of lightening coincided with the far off sounding screech of Madame Hooch's whistle. Wood had called a time out. The team gathered under a mass of umbrellas near the benches, so I didn't have to squelch far. As Harry told Wood of how distraught he was becoming because he couldn't see through wet glasses, Hermione Granger seemingly popped up out of nowhere. A simple spell allowed the glasses to now repel water. False hope. They all took off with renewed optimism.

With all the non canon events that had occurred numerous times, even **_I _**had lulled myself into a false sense that there was a chance we might win this game. I allowed the naïve thoughts into my brain mainly for the purpose of not wanting to have to see Oliver after the game. After all, anything was possible, right?

But then, everything seemed to be happening at once. Cedric was streaking after the snitch, Harry followed. Cold water seemed to be filling me up from the inside, I grew lightheaded and the last thing I remembered was seeing a scarlet streak fall from the sky and a roar from every corner of the stadium that overpowered even the cry of the winds.

* * *

Everything was blurry when I first opened my eyes and began sitting up. I was in the hospital wing lying in one of the beds. At first I was thrown into absolute confusion. Where was I? Who were all these people in the beds next to me…wait, that blonde girl…I knew her….Jemma! Half the reserves were in beds as well and I quickly registered them as such. We must have fainted from being on the field when the…what had that been? 

Dementors? It couldn't have been anything else.

Everything from the books was coming back to me. How could I have forgotten the **_reason _**we lost the game?

Slowly sitting up, I got to my feet and made my groggy way two beds down to the huddle of scarlet robes surrounding one of the beds. Harry. He was awake and the rest of the team was explaining to him about his broom. Poor thing. All those memories of his mother and he looses the game as well…

"Where is Wood?" he asked weakly, suddenly realizing his absence. I hadn't noticed either.

"Still in the showers," said Fred. "We think he's trying to drown himself."

I remembered that line from the books. One of my all time favorites. Although it normally was mere entertainment, it had me thinking now. Harry didn't need me around, he barely knew me. I wasn't even in his year. Oliver on the other hand…

I was quiet as I left the room but tore down to the locker rooms as soon as I was clear of the corridors; slipping all over the grounds in the mud the rain had left behind as carnage.

Clutching my knees, I was bent double trying to catch my breath before I entered the locker room. Walking in, I didn't see anyone on our side and progressed towards the other end of the showers. Oliver, I told myself, had to be in that shower stall. The only one running was closer to the Hufflepuff locker rooms than ours. I shrugged it off. He obviously had wanted to be left alone. Water splashed hard against the tile floor. Thick, muggy steam danced around me in clouds, getting into my skin, clothes and lungs.

It took a while to muster the right words and the will to say them.

"I know this probably isn't the best time to say this." I forced the words to be loud and clear as I stood outside his stall door. "But I need you to hear it and I'm too afraid to wait until you come back to the castle because I know you'll want to sulk in your room alone. I figure here you can't go anywhere…" I smiled nervously and I hoped it showed in my tone.

"Chase?" his voice was watered down and sputtery.

"Yeah, Oliver. Just hear me out, okay? Just let me say this and then you can tell me off all you want. But this needs saying first.

"I know I'm not the best quidditch player. In fact I'm probably the worst Gryffindor has ever seen…and I know we don't seem to have as much in common as we did three weeks ago…I pick fights with your team and its rivals…I even pick stupid fights with you…I-I know I'm not perfect. And I know I've let you down in a lot of ways…The point is I want to be **_better_**. Whether that's at quidditch, my social life or between you and me.

"I can't go back and change what I said to you, all I can do is apologize and hope that you forgive me. Just know that I didn't mean what I said before. I wasn't thinking clearly when I said it and I hate myself for it. And what happened today, it's **_not _**your fault. I've been watching you with your team and you're an amazing captain. You're dedicated and passionate and honest and fair. Everything that I wish I could be. But I'm just not and for that I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

My heart was fluttering and my cheeks were catching red from the guts it had taken to say all that. I just hoped it was worth it. At the very least, he knew how I felt and that was worth so much right then.

The water turned off. A few moments later the stall door swung open. I couldn't see anything for a second or two because of the steam surrounding us. But then it cleared and before me stood…

Cedric fucking Diggory dripping wet with a towel around his waist.

What the hell…? This had to be a joke. He must've stayed afterwards to take a longer shower and I guessed I had to have missed Oliver all together.

"Cedric?"

"Hello Chase." he seemed annoyingly amused.

"Umm, hi…I am **_really_** sorry…I honestly thought you were…"

"Oliver?" he smiled at me kindly, obviously taking pity on the pathetic creature that had just poured her heart out to the wrong guy.

"Yah…" if I hadn't been blushing before, I most certainly was now.

"I'm sure he's around here somewhere. I didn't know you and him were having problems."

"Yah, well…That's probably an understatement." I grumbled.

"Don't worry about it." He chuckled, "You're a sweet girl, I'm sure you'll work this whole thing out. It'll be fine. As long as you really care about each other, that's all you need."

What a sweetheart. This guy didn't even know me and yet here he was, offering me advice. I now felt guilty that such a wonderful person had to die so young. Standing there, seeing the life in his eyes, seeing how much he _appreciated_ life, how optimistic he was. It was inspiring. I was being _inspired_ by a **Hufflepuff**.

"I do care about him, ya know. I just can't seem to ever be able to tell him."

"Well, here's your chance." He pointed over my shoulder. Most of the steam had cleared and there was Oliver, back in his uniform, his robes over his shoulder and his broom leaning idly against the wall. His eyes were bloodshot and I knew he'd been crying over the cup earlier. Had he been there the whole time?

"I'll leave you two alone. Good luck, Chase." His smile was hopeful as he patted my shoulder before traipsing off.

I turned to Oliver, walking closer to him.

"I heard everything you said." his words were soft, tired with no real effort behind them.

"And?" Sweet relief. The exhaustion of getting all those feelings out had left me in half forgetfulness of what I had actually said and I was thankful for not having to repeat the speech.

His answer was almost immediate and fully sufficient. Before I knew what had happened, he'd leaned down and his lips were kissing mine.


End file.
